We Run the Papes
by Kirsten Erin
Summary: More Than Blood:1. The papes run the town and we run the papes. Everyone needs the papes, we just remind 'em why." It isn't easy being Jack Kelly's sister, but it gets downright challenging for Alison Kelly when the strike changes everything. David/OC
1. Alison Kelly

_**Author's Note: I just watched the Newsies for the first time the other night. I loved every second of it! And being the FF writer that I am, my own version of the story started formulating from the very start.**_

_**So here it is- the Newsies if Jack had a sister.**_

_**Disclaimer: All characters are property of Disney and the creators of Newsies, except those which spawn from my overimaginative mind. Like Al. :)**_

**Chapter 1- Alison Kelly**

_Somehow you've got everybody fooled.  
>~Everybody's Fool: Evanescence~ <em>

Alison Kelly growled as Kloppman woke the room full of boys. She shoved her pillow over her head and tried to drown out his routinely obnoxious morning wake up call.

"Come on, up and at 'em!" the old man cried. Suddenly, Alison felt like an earthquake had struck and her world started shaking. Instinctively, she reached up and smacked at the bedpost, knowing Kloppman's hand wouldn't be far out of her reach. She only managed to bruise her knuckles.

"You two boys are always the hardest to rouse in the morning. Must be a family trait." He reached down and smacked Alison's face through the pillow. She smacked his hand back and he left.

"It's alright, Al, he's gone." Blink called quietly from near the doorway a few seconds later. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she stretched and shoved the mattress of the bunk above her.

"Alright, alright, Al. I'm up!" Jack answered groggily. He jumped down from his bed and gave his younger sister a half-hearted glare. "You'd better fix that hair o'yours before Kloppman comes back in and sees ya."

"Ya think I don't know that?" she responded irritably.

She pulled the string out of her hair that had kept in a bun for the night, though there was hardly any of that bun still in the knot she'd put it in, and pulled a brush out from under her mattress. She quickly swept it through the nearly black mass of hair before deftly forming it into a french braid. Left on it's own, it brushed the tops of her shoulders, but she tucked up into her cap. If Kloppman found out she was a girl, she'd be out on the streets faster than you could say "scabber". There wasn't a boarding house for male and female siblings. There was one for girls and one for boys and if you wanted to stay together, you'd have to rough it on the streets or fool Kloppman. Al had been doing the latter for years.

She hurried into the large washroom, dodging flailing boys and flying hand towels. One hit her in the face and she glared at Racetrack, who only grinned in response. She kept it and went to wash her face with it.

When she was done, she studied herself in the mirror and tried not to wonder what she would do when she and Jack got too old to be newsies. He was always touting about Santa Fe, but she wondered if that would ever really happen. What would life be like in New Mexico, anyway? She tried not to shudder at the thought of crossing a desert.

She went in one of the bathroom stalls to change, hurriedly throwing on her black breeches with suspenders, blue shirt a size too big with sleeves she rolled up to her elbows, and a vest that was supposed to partner with the shirt to hide her breasts from the public eye. Or at least from Kloppman. They weren't huge, but they were big enough to be noticed if she wasn't careful about concealing them.

"'ey Cap, you're gonna be late if ya don't move it." Racetrack was banging on the door.

"I'm movin' it, Race." she said pushing open the door and rolling her eyes at him. She hurried over to one of the mirrors and pulled down a shaving brush and a baggie full of dirt that she powdered on her forehead, nose, and the sides of her face. Despite her best efforts to look boyish, her face was still too feminine without the dirt's added touch. Then, of course, the shiner on her jaw didn't look too feminine either.

"Cap!" Mush's voice carried from the top of the stairs.

"I'm comin' already!" She pressed her tan cap down and raced her friend down the stairs. When they hit the streets she hurried with him as the boys funneled into the street. She never understood how they could be so upbeat in the morning. Half of them were sliding in the dirt, jumping over each other, or play fighting. It was a wonder half of these kids were still alive with all the rough-housing they do. Then again, maybe that's what kept them alive. They did live in New York after all.

She hurried and sidled up next to her brother as they received their breakfast from the nuns that were passing out bread and water again.

"Mornin' Al, you awake yet?" he asked, wrapping a heavy arm around her shoulder, his mouth half full.

"No," she answered truthfully, laying a heavy head on his shoulder. "I'll be awake when we get the papes."

"Think there'll be some good 'eadlines?"

"Does it mattah?" she raised an eyebrow.

The rowdy group reached the gates of the news press and Al came up beside Racetrack, still watching the boys who were busy swordfighting and imitating fistfights among other things.

"Race, you owe me a cig." she held out a hand to the boy.

"What? I gave it to ya last Friday!" he responded, still chewing on his cigar.

"Ya gave me one ya'd halfway smoked already. It doesn't count."

Race's eyes narrowed, but he handed her an entire cigarette this time, though grudgingly. She smirked and put it in the inside pocket of her vest, the one that buttoned shut.

"You ain't even gonna smoke it?" he asked, disbelief clear in his voice.

"Ya know that puts off the customahs, especially the ones that figure out I'm a goil. I'll smoke it aftah lunch."

Racetrack turned away, muttering about girls stealing his stuff. It was only a few minutes later that most of the boys quieted down. Al turned slowly, knowing only one thing could cause them all to quiet that quickly- the appearance of the Delancey brothers.

Racetrack sniffed the air dramatically.

"Dear me. What is that unpleasant aroma?" he fanned his face with his cap and tapped Kid Blink on the cheek. "I fear the sewer may have backed up."

She couldn't help but chuckle.

"Naw, too rotten." Boots agreed.

"Yeah, yeah. It must be the Delancey bruddahs!" Crutchy mocked from where he stood behind Jack.

The other boys were always protecting the two of them- Crutchy and Al. Even as she was thinking about it, Mush grabbed her arm and pulled her back beside him while Blink moved in front of her so she wouldn't be in the front in case they tried to pull something. They all knew she could fight when needed, but they still did their best to watch out for her. In the years since their arrival at the Newsboys lodge, these boys had become like brothers to her. They'd known the truth from the start, but not one of 'em had ratted her out to Kloppman yet. For that, she was eternally grateful.

The entire group burst into laughter as the two continued to approach.

Oscar sneered and grabbed a younger boy by the back of the neck that had been standing just in front of Jack.

"In the back you lousy little shrimp." he said, throwing the poor kid down.

"'ey! Leave the kid alone!" she pushed past Racetrack and helped the kid up, glaring at the two brothers. The younger boy from the lodge smiled gratefully at her.

"It's not good to do that. Not healthy." Racetrack warned the two brothers, smile still broad.

"Shouldn't be callin' people lousy little shrimps, Oscar," Jack moved so that he was right in the boy's face. "Unless you're referring to a family resemblence between your bruddah an' you."

Oscar blinked at the insult.

"What? You don' recognize an insult when ya hear one?" Al asked, nudging her brother lightly in the ribs. She looked at Jack and smiled. "Guess they get confused since it's all they hear."

Jack laughed with the other boys and Race called at to everyone, "Five to one Cowboy skunks 'em, eh? Who's bettin'?" Al shook her head as the others called out bets they weren't going to back up. And people wondered why he'd been dubbed Racetrack . . .

Jack gave her a look, eyes twinkling as he approached the other boy, Morris. "That's right. That's an insult. So's this!" he grabbed Morris's hat and took off, all the boys hollering after him. The Delancey brothers took a second, then started after him. She started to follow, but Mush grabbed her arm.

"Lemme go, Mush." she warned, ready to swing at him.

"Come on, Al. You already got a shiner. Jack can 'andle 'imself."

"I'll give you one to match if you don't let go o' my arm." she warned. He let go and she took off in the direction of her brother and the whole group that was watching the display. She realized then that they were coming back around when she ran straight into a boy in a striped blue shirt, dark blue tie, and light brown vest.

"Really? How many times are people gonna run into me?"

"Sorry 'bout that." she apologized then climbed onto the statue beside her so she could see over the crowd. "There 'e is." she dropped down.

"David, can we see if he's winning?" the little boy beside the one she'd run into asked, tugging on his older brother's vest.

"Ya wanna see 'im win? Here, follow me." she said, taking the boy by the hand. David made a noise that sounded like an objection, but she was already halfway through the crowd with the younger boy in tow.

When she reached them, Jack had just reached the gate and climbed up it to safety. Al chuckled and nudged the younger boy.

"See, Cowboy always wins." she laughed.

_**A/N: Let me know what you think!**_


	2. We Run the Papes

_**Author's Note: I'm enjoying writing this story so much! I even dreamed about the Newsies last night. :P**_

**Chapter 2- We Run the Papes**

David came up on the other side of his brother, pulling him by his shirt away from her. Al eyed him, wondering what his problem was. "What's yer name anways, kid?"

"I'm Les. This is my brother, David." he answered as the circulation bell rang and the crowd of newsies surged forward.

"They call me Cap, but you can call me Al. Now hurry yous two or you're gonna get trampled." she laughed. The two got into line only a few people back from her brother and Racetrack at the front.

"This your first time sellin' papes?" she asked, poking the older brother in the shoulder.

David scowled at her, "Yes. You?"

"Naw," she laughed. "Been sellin' papes a couple years now, my bruddah and I. Speakin' o' which, I better get up there." She shoved past the few in her way, careful to avoid Crutchy so he wouldn't get knocked off the platform and she eased next to her brother.

"The usual," Jack told Weasel. "There ya are, Al. I was wonderin' where you'd got off to."

He handed a hundred papers to her and shouldered a hundred himself and she followed him to one of the platform edges to read. She sat on his left and it wasn't long before Racetrack settled on his right.

"Anything good this morning?" Race asked.

"You gonna sit down?" Jack asked over Al's shoulders. She pivoted to find Les peering over her shoulder. She smiled and patted the spot next to her, where he gratefully took his seat. She handed him one of her papers and he took it with his free hand. The other held a wooden sword.

"You gonna soak some scabbahs with that thing?" she asked.

His brow dipped like he didn't understand and she shrugged it off. She'd forgotten he and his brother were new. They sounded like they'd been in school, too. No wonder he didn't understand it. The kid had probably never even seen a fight before. She started perusing the headlines, figuring out how she was going to get these papers to sell themselves.

"Look at this- baby born with two heads. Must be from Brooklyn." Race said, tapping his cigar against his paper. Al snorted and looked over at Les, who was busy trying to copy Jack. Cowboy only acknowledged his friend's comment with a quick smile.

"I paid for twenty and only got nineteen." David's voice came from over her shoulder and she looked up, as did Jack.

"Are you accusin' me of lyin', kid?" Weasel fairly screeched. Les stood up, watching his brother with a worried expression while Al only rolled her eyes at the remark.

"There's no use denyin' it, Weasel, we all know you're a liar." she called over her shoulder as Jack stood, moving over to count David's papers. She stood, shouldering her papers and Jack's.

"You shut your rotten mouth, Kelly!" he yelled from behind the bars.

"Try to make me." she countered with an upturned eyebrow.

"Well, it's nineteen, Weasel." Jack interrupted, dropping his shoulders on the counter and moving closer to the bars. "But don't worry 'bout it. It's an honest mistake. I mean, Morris can't count to twenty with his shoes on." Morris grabbed at the bars and Jack flinched away.

He turned to Racetrack, "Hold it. Race, will ya spot me two bits?" Race flipped a coin his way. "Another fifty for my friend here."

"Oh, I don't want another fifty." David told Weasel.

"Sure ya do. Every newsie wants more papes." He pushed them into David's chest and went to Al, taking his papers from her, much to her relief. They were getting heavy. David followed Jack down the steps on the opposite side of the counter with Les and Al trailing.

"I don't want your papes. I don't take charity from anybody. I don't even know you and I don't care to. Here are your papes." he held the extra fifty out to him, but Jack made no move to take it.

"Cowboy. They call him Cowboy." Les said, running up beside his brother.

"And ya know me, so that should count for somethin'." Al offered, coming up beside her brother.

"Only for five minutes," David countered. "What does that matter anyway?"

"He's my bruddah." she laughed, clapping her older brother on the back.

"Real names' Jack Kelly, kid, and this is Al. What's yours?"

"My names Les and this is my brother, David." Les responded proudly, clearly in the growing stages of hero worship. "He's older."

"Ah, no kiddin'." Jack handed his bundle to one of the guys behind Al and leaned down so he could look the kid in the eye. "How old are ya, Les?"

"Near ten."

"Near ten. Well, that's no good. If anybody asks, you should say you're seven." At the confused look in the boy's eye, Jack continued. "See, younger sells more papes, Les. If we're gonna be partnahs we gotta be the best."

"Wait, wait, wait," David interjected. "Who said anything about partners?"

"Well, you owe me two bits, right?" Jack responded. "Cap and I will considah that an investment. We sell togethah, we split seventy/thirty, plus you get the benefit of obs-oi-vin' us at what we do best. No charge."

David let out a disbelieving laugh and Jack mocked him by imitating it. Al shoved an elbow in her brother's ribs.

"Be nice," she reminded him.

"Hey, you're gettin' the chance of a lifetime here, Davy. You learn from them, you learn from the best." Crutchy vouched for them.

"Well, if you're the best then how come you need me?"

Jack turned to her and huffed, she raised an eyebrow and he turned back.

"Look, I don't need you, pal. But I ain't got a cute lil' bruddah like Les here to front for me. Ya know with this kid's puss and my God-given talent, we could move a thousand papes a week." Jack said proudly. "So whattya say Les, you wanna sell papes for me?"

"Yeah," Les answered excitedly.

Al slapped her brother in the chest with the back of her hand, "Don't manipulate the kid, Jack. Give Davy here a chance to answer ya." she scolded. Jack pulled his hand back reluctantly as all eyes turned on David. He gave Al an appreciative nod.

"It's gotta be at least fifty/fifty." A peal of laughter came from their small audience. Everyone was chuckling save Les, David, and Al.

Jack snickered and responded, "Sixty/forty and I forget the whole thing."

Al grit her teeth, but let them continue. A couple of the guys nodded, telling him it was a fair deal. It wasn't bad at all, but Al would've been fine with fifty/fifty. Les nodded excitedly at his brother and David seemed to crumble at the boy's expression.

"Whattya say?" Jack asked.

With a roll of his eyes, David stuck his hand out. Jack spat in his palm and went to shake it when the other boy pulled his hand out of the way with a look of disgust on his face.

"What's the mattah?" Jack was almost offended at the gesture.

"That's disgusting."

This time Al laughed with the guys as they headed out. Jack gathered his papers and turned to David as they walked.

"You only took twenty papes, Dave. Why?"

"Bad headlines."

"That's the first thing ya gotta learn. Headlines don't sell papes." He looked to his sister, who smiled.

"Newsies sell papes," Al told them.

"Ya know, we're the ones who hold this town togethah," Jack elaborated. "Without newsies, nobody knows nothin'."

"The papes run the town and we run the papes. Everyone needs the papes, we just remind 'em why." Al finished with a Cheshire grin. Just then a girl walked by, stopping to see the commotion and causing a commotion herself. Her face flushed as everyone except Al took off their hats in her presence. David gave her a sideways glance, but she ignored it.

One of the boys behind her started shouting the headlines and it was time for work.


	3. Discoveries

_**Author's Note: I'm already on Chapter 9 of this story on my laptop and I can't seem to stop. :P Here's a new chapter. It's time for our favorite newsies to meet Snyder and Medda. :)**_

**Chapter 3- Discoveries**

_I'm gonna run like I've got the cops on my tail  
>I'm gonna live my life like I'm out on bail<br>__I'm gonna be a Bronc on a blaze of trail  
><em>_I'm gonna, I'm gonna, I'm gonna  
>I'm gonna cross that line<br>__~Cross the Line: Superchic[k]~ _

The newsies set out to do what they do best- sell papers.

Al found herself falling into step beside David as Les talked Jack's ear off in front of him. Her brother took it all in stride, clearly fond of the kid and keenly aware that he hung on the older boy's every word.

"Are you and Jack twins?" David asked, trying to make conversation in order to fill the deafening silence between them.

"Naw, he's older by a year an' a couple months," she shrugged.

"Have any other siblings?"

"Nope, jus' the two of us. Why? Do you?"

"Yeah," he answered as they turned a corner, kicking up dirt off the streets as they walked. "I have an older sister. About a year older than me."

"An' how old are you?" she asked.

"Sixteen. You?"

"Fifteen."

Their conversation died there and they walked a few more minutes in silence. She knew he'd want to fill that silence in another minute or two. She could practically see the cogs churning in his brain.

He didn't disappoint.

"So where are we going anyway?"

"A couple o' different places. Jack gets to pick this week. But it's Tuesday, so we'll prolly end the day at the boxin' ring."

At his near horrified look, she couldn't help but laugh. Jack and Les turned back to look at them, but she ignored him.

"What? Ya scared?"

"No!" he said quickly. "I just don't wanna take Les there."

She nodded, understanding his point. "I understand, but the kid's gonna see violence soonah or latah. After all, this is New York and the two of yous are newsies now. Not to mention, out of all the newsies ya made friends with, we're not exactly the most- eh- fight shy, ya might say."

"Great," David huffed.

"Don't worry, we'll take care of you boys." Al couldn't help but grin. She kept walking, then decided to add on, "An' if it bothers you, look away. That's what I do."

"Oh, are you scared?" he shot back with a crooked grin.

"'Course not," she laughed, shoving his shoulder. "I just see enough violence on a day to day basis. I don't get off on watchin' it fah fun." she finished more seriously. David nodded and the two slipped back into silence.

The group of four reached the crowd around the fight a few hours after noon and Jack reminded Al to stay close. This wasn't exactly the best area for a girl to be in, though they both knew there wasn't much of a chance she'd be discovered in a group so riveted on the fight.

Jack sent Les off on his own, having apparently given him a gimmick for selling his papers, and the three of them moved into the crowd.

"Extra, extra! Trolley strike drags on!" David yelled, holding his paper up as he walked. The Kelly siblings shared a look before moving in behind him.

"Extra, extra! Monster child delivered to Manhattan drunk!" Al pushed past David, immediately selling two papers.

"Extra, extra! Ellis Island in flames! Big conflagration! Thousands flee in panic!" her brother called from behind her. Al couldn't help but smile as she heard David question his source in an entirely confused manner. She kept moving, calling her own version of the two-headed baby story.

A few minutes later she doubled back to find Jack sitting and excitedly watching the boxing match in front of him. She was just about to get onto him for slacking when Les came running up, eyes wild with excitement.

"Guy gave me a quarter! Quick give me some more last papers!" Jack pocketed the quarter for the boy and reached for more papers.

"Wait. Wait. . ." David held his brother in place and sniffed him. "You smell like beer."

"Well, that's how I made the quarter. Guy bet me I wouldn't drink some." Les explained.

Al turned to Jack, fuming at the information, "Ya sent 'im into the bar?"

Jack lifted his hands in surrender, "It's not a big deal. I didn't know they was gonna give 'im some." he answered, though he couldn't hide the smile that had formed with Les's announcement. "Hey, no drinkin' on the job. It's bad fah business. I mean, what if somebody called a cop on you?"

Al relaxed and looked at Davy, who was peering at someone across the ring. She followed his gaze as he leaned down to Jack, "Is he a friend o' yours?"

Jack stood to get a better view just as Al spotted the one man she hoped she'd never see again. "Snyder!" She grabbed her brother, whose face almost visibly paled. His eyes went wide.

"Beat it!" he answered, turning to run and then groaning. "The Bulls!"

He turned again and immediately climbed into the boxing ring, hoping that running across it would slow down the policemen tailing them. Al helped as David pushed Les through and took off with the two right behind her. She narrowly dodged the two men still fighting as she slipped through the ropes.

"All this for one sip of beer?" Les asked his brother. Al would've been laughing if she wasn't so concerned about getting out of there. She followed Jack through a short alleyway filled with crates that threatened to trip her up. She dropped down just as Les tripped, getting his foot caught in one of the crates that fell out into the street.

"He's right behind me!" David yelled.

Al grabbed Les, pulled his foot out, and helped the kid swing onto her back all in one swift motion.

"Move!" she fairly screamed as she took off across the street. They swerved around a horse and carriage, praying it would slow down their pursuer.

"Come on! Hurry up!" Jack yelled. He paused for a half-second and hurried up the set of stairs that lead into some sort of boarding house. David grabbed Al's upper arm and half pulled her up the stairs. They reached the door seconds after Jack swung it open and proceeded up another two flights of stairs before reaching the roof, David calling out how close Snyder was just as Jack called out the obstacles so the others could avoid them.

Jack ran off of what appeared to be the edge and dropped with a faint yell. David paused, looking both confused and slightly terrified.

"He's not stupid," Al huffed, dropping Les off her back and hurrying toward the edge just as Jack's head popped up.

"Hurry!" he growled and dropped down. She let Les go down first and David followed her. Just as they were out of sight, the door they'd just come through flew open, banging against the bit of wall beside it.

The four listened to Snyder huff and breathed as quietly as possible. Al was dying to suck in greedy breaths of air after lugging around a nine year-old who weighed far more than what he looked, but quelled the urge.

"Sullivan! Wait 'til I get you back to the Refuge!" he howled as they started to crawl away.

The moment they were at a safe distance, Jack stood and started booking it across the roof. The group took two flights of stairs down another building, got a few streets between themselves and the bulls, and stopped in a doorway.

"I'm not running any further." David announced, glaring at Jack, who merely clapped him on the shoulder and pushed past him.

"Of course not, we're here, bozo." Al laughed and pushed past him as well, Les trailing behind her. Finally he followed, practically slamming the door behind him. They took a few turns within the building and finally made it through a pair of double doors.

"I hate stairs and I hate runnin'." Al complained as she dropped onto one of the steps of a wooden stairway next to the doors. Jack leaned heavily against one of the rails.

"I want some answers." David said loudly, poking Jack in the chest as he entered.

"Shhh!" Al and Jack cautioned simultaneously.

"No!" he looked at the two of them angrily. "Who is he? Why is he chasing you? And what is this Refuge?"

Jack waved a hand at Les, clearly not wanting the little boy who idolized him to hear him. David's glare didn't waiver and he sighed before explaining.

"The Refuge is jail fah kids. The guy chasin' me is the warden, Snyder." Jack answered quietly, hoping the kid wouldn't hear.

"And he's not gonna get his hands on 'im. Not if I have anythin' to say about it."

"And you!" he turned an accusing finger to her. "You're a girl? I suspected as much, but still!"

Jack spun toward his sister just as her hands went flying to her head.

"Where's my cap? Where the hell is my cap?" she twisted to look behind her and scanned the room.

"I _might_ have knocked it off when you put me on your back." Les murmured sheepishly. "Sorry."

"It's not ya fault, Les." she responded, though she dropped her head into her hands, rubbing her eyes with her palms.

"I need a new hat before we go 'ome." she told her brother. He nodded and she turned to David. "And yeah, I'm definitely a goil."

David threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Why were you in jail?" he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose to calm himself.

"We were starvin', so I stole some food." Jack answered with a shrug.

"Oh, right. Food." David rolled his eyes.

"He's not lyin'." Al growled. "We didn't 'ave anothah choice."

"He called you Sullivan." David pointed out and Al tried not to flinch.

"Yeah, well, my name's Kelly. Jack Kelly. You think I'm lyin'?"

"Well you have a way of improving the truth." David didn't falter and Al would've applauded him for his tenacity if she hadn't been getting angrier by the second. This guy had no right to pry into their lives like this. "Why was he chasin' you?"

"Because I escaped." Jack deadpanned. "Why else?"

"Oh boy! How?" Les asked in admiration. This time Al did flinch. The kid had been listening all along.

"This big shot. He let me ride out in 'is carriage." Jack explained, glad Les didn't stop looking up to him just because he'd been in prison. Al rolled her eyes at the story. If you can call hanging onto the bottom of the carriage "letting", then it wasn't far from the truth.

"I'll bet it was the mayor." David responded condescendingly.

"No, it was Teddy Roosevelt. You ever hoid of 'im?"

Al stood, fuming as she got right in David's face.

"Look, kid, if you're gonna act like you're all bettah than us, get outta here. We don't need you turnin' up your nose at us fah the way we live like some scabbah. An' if ya treat my bruddah like that again I'll give you a shinah so bad-"

"What's going on there?" a voice came from the top of the stairwell and Al pulled her face away from David's and turned toward it. "Out! Out, out, out!" she shooed.

Al smiled as Jack trudged up the stairs to her. "You wouldn't kick me out without a kiss goodbye, would ya, Medda?"


	4. Meetings

_**Author's Note: Hmm. . . What have we here? In short- Medda, Al's temper, and David's family. Enjoy! And don't forget to let me know what you think! Every review means alot to me. :)**_

**Chapter 4- Meetings**

The ginger woman smiled ruefully as she recognized Jack.

"Aww, Kelly?" she pulled him into a little hug as she laughed. "Where ya been, kid? Oh I miss seein' ya up in the balcony with your sister."

He kissed her hand. "Hangin' on your every woid."

He escorted her down the stairs and pointed to his sister.

"She's right there. And that's David, the one she was yellin' at, and his lil' bruddah, Les." he introduced. Al flashed a bright smile and hugged Medda tight when the woman stretched her arms out to her.

"I see you're still masquerading as a boy, Alison." Medda commented, lips pressed together in an amused smile.

"It's still necessary," Al shrugged.

"And this, David and Les, is the greatest star of Vaudville stage today- Miss Medda Larkson, the sweetest meadowlark." She curtsied, clearly flattered by the praise. "Medda also owns the joint."

"What have we here?" Medda asked, noticing Les now. She crouched down and tickled his face with the giant feather fan in her hand, uttering baby noises that made Al chuckle behind her hand.

Jack was busy making faces at David, who was still confused about Jack knowing the owner of the theatre they were in.

Suddenly, Les started coughing weakly into his hand and Medda looked stricken.

"Oh, are you alright?" she asked as Al's eyes went wide with worry. The boy hadn't seemed sick a few seconds ago. Then a paper was in his hand and she turned to look at Jack, whose ever-wide smile was growing wider by the second.

"Buy me last pape, lady?" he asked hoarsely.

"Oh, you are good." she turned to Jack, who was obviously the culprit. "Oh this kid is really good." She turned back to Les and fanned herself lightly. "Speaking as one professional to another, I'd say you've got a great future." she tickled his face with her fan again and stood.

"So is it okay if we stay a while, Medda? Just 'til a little problem outside goes away."

"No, of course. Stay as long as you like." she looked over David's shoulder. "Toby, just give my guests whatever they want."

Turning, Medda locked arms with Al as she walked. Leading the group to a small sitting room near enough to the stage that she could get there quickly when her part came in the performance.

"Why was it that you were yelling backstage, Alison? You know you have to be quiet back here." Medda reprimanded, but sweetly.

"It's been a long day and David was pickin' a fight where 'e shouldn'ta been." she answered.

"He cheesed 'er off pretty good." Jack called from behind, much to David's chagrin.

Medda laughed good-naturedly.

"How long has it been since I've seen the two of you?"

"A month or two." she responded as they took their seats. "Life's been busy."

"Life tends to be that way." the older woman responded. "And it's no fun if it isn't."

"Got that right." Jack responded heartily.

"How do you three know each other?" David asked after a moment.

"Jack's a shameless floit." Al responded, fixing her brother with a pointed look.

"I'm a suckah for a pretty lady." he pretended to bow in his seat with a little flourish.

"The two of them got lost when they first came to town a few years ago. I let them stay the night and the rest is history." Medda explained with a laugh. "That was back when Alison was still wearing her hair short. Thankfully, she's letting it grow out now."

Al rolled her eyes just as a man in with a large mustache and a ridiculous red jacket came running in. "Medda, it's almost your turn to go on."

The kids followed her as she went on stage and watched her performance from the side. Each of the boys stood entranced and Al couldn't help but laugh at them. They had it bad. She had to admit that she admired Medda, though. The woman was beautiful and sweet. Just watching her, Al had to admit that she missed the feel of dresses and just getting to act like a girl. How would she ever find a guy who liked her as more than a buddy if she had to act like a boy all the time?

It wasn't long before Les started complaining about being tired and they decided to leave. They left by the same door they had entered and Jack lit his cigarrette.

"You like it?" he asked David.

"I loved that. It was great." he responded as Jack passed the cigarette to his sister, whose eager fingertips grasped it quickly. He pulled out a pocket watch and studied it for a moment. "Oh, it's getting late. My parent's are gonna be worried."

Al passed the cigarrette back to her brother after a few drags, blowing out a plume of smoke.

"What about yours?" David asked curiously.

"Ah, they're out West lookin' for a place to live." he dug in his pocket, handing the cigarette back to his sister again without bothering to put it to his lips. He pulled out a small book that she had been his favorite since he was a kid: Western Jim. "Like this. See, that's Santa Fe, New Mexico. Soon as they find the right ranch, they're gonna send for us."

Oh, how she wished that were true. Wouldn't that make life simpler?

"Then you'll be a real cowboy." Les pointed out, licorice stick still dangling out of his hand.

"Yep-"

Whatever else he was about to say was cut off by the sound of something crashing. The four turned simultaneously in that direction.

"Did ya hear that?" Al asked, blowing out another plume of smoke. Jack took off toward the noise as a louder crash sounded and the other three followed, true to form. It was only a few moments before they came out on a street filled with angry men. Some of the bulls were trying to settle the crowd, but they were only fighting back and getting angrier. All of this was backlit by a burning trolley.

Al pulled David out of the way of a rushing carriage seconds before the mob came screaming in their direction, beating off another few bulls. The four moved to a storefront nearby so they wouldn't get trampled.

"Hey, why don't we go back to my place and divy up? You can meet my folks." David suggested.

"Sounds like a good idea." Al responded as she finished her cigarette and flicked it onto the ground.

"It's the trolley strike, Davey." Jack seemed almost too happy as the men started beating on the bulls and some other bystanders. "These couple o' dumbasses must not've joined or somethin'." He spit, pumping his fists in excitement as he watched.

"Jack, let's get out of here." David pleaded, glancing at his brother worriedly. He was concerned for Les's safety.

Al smacked her brother on the back of the head and he turned with a glare. "Come on before we get involved in somethin' we can't get out of. I don't wanna spend the night in jail and I coitainly don't wanna end up with a black eye for gettin' in some fist-happy drunk's way."

"Yeah, ya right," he aquiesced. "Maybe we'll get a good headline tomorrow, huh?" he turned to the bench behind him. "Good grief, he slept all the way through it." Jack laughed. He hefted the younger boy over his shoulder and the two Kelly siblings flanked David as he showed them the way to his home.

They reached it about ten minutes later. David pushed open the door to his family's apartment and walked in. The moment his mother, a beautiful blond woman with her hair pinned atop her head, laid eyes on Les slung over Jack's shoulder, she gasped.

"My God, what happened?" she asked rushing to him as he set the boy on his feet.

"Nothin', Momma." David stopped her to plant a kiss on her cheek. "'e's just sleepin'."

Jack moved to let his sister in the room and she shut the door behind herself while David's mom carried Les to a bed nearby.

"We've been waiting dinner for you, where have you been?" the man whom Al presumed was their father asked. He was middle-aged and his right arm hung in a sling that tied around his neck. She wondered if it hurt.

She saw her brother fidgeting out of the corner of her eye and turned to look at him. He was awkwardly holding Les's sword and shuffling his feet. She understood his nervousness. It was like they were butting into some kind of perfect family's life. Like if they made the wrong move, they'd screw it up somehow.

"These are our selling partners," David was telling his father as he came over beside them. "And friends." he tacked on.

"Jack and Alison Kelly, my parents." The two shook hands with his father. "That's my sister, Sarah."

Sarah looked up demurely from the rocking chair David had been pointing to. She smiled broadly at Al, then much more shyly at Jack. He looked back at his parents, trying not to grin. Al paled as she looked at the other girl, wondering what her new friends' family must think of her waltzing into their house with boys' clothes and scruffed up hair. She ran her hands hastily over the french braid, trying to make it look at least halfway presentable by pushing away the freed bits. If she had thought about this beforehand, she would have declined David's offer for them to come here.

"Listen, maybe David's partners would like to join us for dinner. Why don't you go add a little more water to the soup?" his father suggested, giving his wife a kiss on the cheek. She fondly rolled her eyes and did as he suggested.

The six of them sat down to dinner and for the first few minutes there was near silence except for the clinking of spoons as everyone dug in. Al couldn't help but enjoy the home cooked meal and wondered how long it'd been since she had a real one like this. It felt like it had been forever. It was probably pretty close.

"So tell us a little about yourselves," Mrs. Jacobs said, taking a sip of her glass.

"There's really not much to tell," Al responded for the two of them. "We been newsies since we was kids and our folks're in New Mexico lookin' for a ranch an' when they find the right one, we're followin' 'em. Jack and I, we stick togethah."

"And where do the two of you live?" Mr. Jacobs wondered.

"At a lodgin' house for newsies," Al responded. "They let me stay wit' my bruddah in a separate room." She lied for good measure.

"There aren't many girl newsies out there." Mrs. Jacobs commented.

Al fidgeted, feeling like she was being interrogated and nudged Jack with her foot."No, there ain't. I'm the only one I've heard of."

"She hides it," David filled in. "Or tries to. Les accidentally knocked off her cap and that's how we found out."

"Oh, Alison, I'll bet having to act like a boy all the time is dreadful." Sarah gasped.

"It don't mattah if she likes it or not. It keeps 'er safer and that's what mattahs." Jack answered pointedly.

"Ya get used to it," Al tacked on. "Most of the 'Hattan newsies know anyway."

She turned back to her soup, keeping her head low and hoping they'd stop questioning her. Jack sat up in his chair and looked at them.

"So ya know somethin' about us. What about yous guys? What's there to know about you?"

Dinner progressed in much the same manner until Sarah stood and started clearing the dishes. Jack leaned back as she took his plate.

"So I gotta say that from what I saw today, your boys are a couple o' born newsies. So with our experience an' their hard woik, I think we could sell a thousand a week without breakin' a sweat."

"That many?" Mr. Jacobs was clearly surprised at this.

"Jack an' I can usually push about eight, maybe nine hundred a week togethah." Al explained. "With all four of us, we could likely reach a thousand five hundred."

"More when the headlines are good." Jack tacked on.

"Well, what makes a headline good?" Sarah questioned.

"Well, um," Jack thought. "Catchy woids like maniac or corpse or. . . let's see, love nest or nude." He started chuckling and Sarah joined him.

Al dug her foot into her brother's toe as Mrs. Jacobs started looking uncomfortable with the situation. He hissed and glared at her, about to make a big deal of it when he saw their faces and stopped.

"Excuse me. Maybe I'm talking too much." he apologized to the table.

"Yeah, maybe you are." Al muttered and David burst into laughter.

"Sarah," Mr. Jacobs leaned forward and Al knew it was over. They were about to get kicked out of this lovely family's home and it was all Jack's fault. She was going to let him have it when they were out of earshot. "Why don't you go get the cake your mothah's hiding in the cabinet?"

Al felt relief wash over her as Mrs. Jacobs smacked her husband with her napkin.

"That's for your birthday tomorrow!" she cried.

"Well, I've had enough birthdays. This is a celebration!"

Al and Jack exchanged glances. Cake? How long had it been since either of them had tasted a piece of cake? Definitely not for at least a year or two.

"I'll get the knife." David jumped up.

"I'll get the forks." his mother chimed in.

"This is only the beginning Papa," David spoke from the kitchen. "The more I work, the more money I'll make." He was obviously proud of the job he'd done as a newsie today. Al smiled, he was a natural. It wouldn't take long before he was as good as the Kelly siblings.

"You'll only work until I go back to the factory and then you are going back to school like you promised."

David looked uneasily at his mother, who only hugged him close before heading to the table with the forks. He looked like the fire had been knocked out of him. He brought the knife back to the table as his sister set the cake in front of their father and gave him a kiss on the cheek, wishing him a happy birthday.

Mr. Jacobs looked up at his son, "This is going to heal and I'll get me back my job."

The family stood together as their mother helped her husband cut the cake. It looked like a painting or something that should go in a picture book. Here was a real live family that liked each other and everything. Al wondered if she had ever seen anything like it before. Probably not.

Sarah handed Al and Jack their plates and the two started to dig in as David dropped into his chair again.

Suddenly, the sound of Les singing drew all attention to the bed at the back of the room.

"Come back my lovey-dovey baby and coochy coo with me." he warbled, hands twitching with the rhythm in his sleep. The three newsies at the table looked at each other and burst into laughter even though they tried not to.

"And what is this, David? Hmm?" Mrs. Jacobs questioned. David sobered and dug into his cake, eager to put off answering.

"Just somethin' a friend of our was singin' today. Must've picked it up." Al choked and reached for her glass. She took a good draught from it. "This is some real good cake, Mrs. Jacobs. Thanks for lettin' us join you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Alison."


	5. Family

_**Author's Note: Bought the soundtrack to Newsies today before my family took a train over to Versailles and I got to listen to King of New York (my favorite of them) on my way there! My legs are killing me now, though. Here's another chapter! **_

**Chapter 5- Family**

The boys decided to go outside on the fire escape and Sarah invited Al into her room while she readied herself for bed. Al aquiesced and sat on the edge of the older girl's bed while she brushed her hair out.

"How long have you and ya family lived here?" Al asked, striking up a conversation.

"Since I was a little girl," Sarah responded. "Have you always lived in the lodging house?"

"Naw, we lived with my parents before we was newsies." Al shrugged.

"Do you miss them?"

Al thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, I suppose I do. It'd be nice to not have to worry so much about every meal or keepin' safe." It wasn't entirely a lie. She couldn't help but wonder if she'd a a proper lady like Sarah if she had been born with parents who cared about what happened to her. She crossed her arms over her chest, keeping herself from burrowing too deep in her thoughts.

"I take it you weren't very close with them." It wasn't a judgment, just an observation. Sarah continued to look at Al through the mirror.

"It's been awhile," she shrugged, finding that was the best vague excuse she could come up with. "Whattaya expect?"

Silence prevailed in the room for a little over a minute before Sarah spoke up again.

"Alison?"

"Yeah?"

"How did you get that bruise on your jaw? You don't have to say if you don't want-" She started to say hurriedly, but Al cut her off.

"Don't worry about it," she laughed, touching her jaw tenderly and examining the bruise in the mirror from where she sat. It wasn't as bad as it had been two days ago. "Racetrack and I got jumped at Central Park aftah lunch a few days ago by some goons who thought they could make a little extra cash offa two smallah newsies. We was takin' a smoke and they caught us off guard."

Sarah's eyes went wide, "What happened?"

"We fought 'em off an' they loined a lesson 'bout messin' with the Manhattan's newsies." She responded as if it were the most natural thing in the word. Of course, to Al, it basically was.

"Do you get in fights alot?"

"Often enough. Bein' related to Jack comes with it's own complications. I don't usually start the fights, but I sure as hell end 'em."

Sarah laughed at that and Al joined her, though it didn't take the truth from her words. Sarah smiled and looked out the window where the two boys were talking as they leaned against a rail.

"I wish I knew how to fight sometimes." she sighed.

"Ya live in a dangerous city," Al conceded. "Maybe you should learn."

"Like David would ever teach me." she rolled her eyes.

"I'll teach ya sometime- give ya a couple o' pointahs." the younger girl laughed.

"Really?"

"Yeah, you're probably gonna need it. Yous a pretty goil an' ya won't always have ya bruddah there to help ya." Al pointed out. "I know from experience."

The two Kelly siblings left shortly afterward, declining invitations from both Sarah and David to spend the night there. Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs looked worried and pointed out that it wasn't safe to roam Manhattan at night.

"Don't worry, wes can handle ourselves." Al reminded them. "Thanks fah havin' us ovah, though."

"Yeah, ya family's real nice. Like ours." Jack added, wrapping his arm around his sister's shoulders.

David walked them down to the bottom of the fire escape and said goodbye again.

"It's been real nice meetin' ya, Dave." Jack grasped his arm.

"It's been nice meeting both of you. See ya tomorrow?"

"Of course," Al laughed. She reached a hand up to push some escaped hair out of her face. She patted at her head frantically, eyes wide as she looked at her brother in panic.

"Aw shoot." he groaned. "All the stores'll be closed."

"Think one of the boys'll run me down a hat?" she asked him before chewing on her bottom lip.

"Like Kloppman won't recognize it's one o' theirs an' start askin' questions?"

"What's wrong?" David asked as Jack ran a worried hand through his hair.

"Al lost 'er cap, remembah?" Jack responded.

"So?"

"So, she needs one befah we get back to the Newboy Lodge."

"Why?"

"Do ya always ask so many questions?" Al asked irritably. He gave her a pointed look and she deflated. "Look, can I trust ya to keep a secret?" He nodded. "I lied to ya family. The caretakah, Kloppman, doesn't know I'm a goil. I sleep in the bunk beneath my bruddah in the same room as all the other guys. If he found out, I'd get kicked out on my reah."

"So if you don't get a cap tonight . . .?"

"We sleep on the streets," Jack finished.

"Well, here," he fumbled with his back pocket for a second and pulled out the brown cap he'd been wearing earlier. "You need it more than I do."

"I can't take ya hat, David."

"Oh yes, ya can." Jack said, snatching it out of David's hand and dropping it on his sister's head. "I ain't spendin' the night half awake and worryin' 'bout keepin' us safe jus' 'cause you wanna be polite."

"Besides, Les is the one who knocked your hat off," David remarked. "We owe it to ya. I've got another one anyway."

"Alright," she laughed. She stood up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks, it means alot to me."

He flushed, red faced and stammered a goodbye as the Kelly siblings headed home.

"You kissed 'im?" Jack burst with amusement the moment they turned onto the street.

"On the cheek." Al rolled her eyes.

"I nevah seen you do that to no one 'cept me." Jack looked at her pointedly.

"Hey, I'm a goil. Sometimes I do goily stuff when I don't have to pretend I'm a boy. It's a nice change from the usual." She shrugged.

"Yeah, well don't go 'round kissin' on Mush or Racetrack or I'll 'ave to soak 'em an' Kloppman'll start askin' questions."

Al rolled her eyes and shoved her brother.

"That was real nice, ya know? Gettin' to meet Davy's family an' all." she said after a few minutes of silence.

"Yeah, who knew people like that existed?" he responded.

"You ever wish we had a family like that?" she wondered quietly, kicking a rock wit the tip of her shoe. She was afraid to look at him.

"We are a family. You an' me." he reminded her firmly.

"I know, I know. It's just- Sarah asked me if we missed our parents. Now ya know I don't, but I got to thinkin' 'bout what it'd be like to have some like that. A mom and a pop that fed ya an' cared for ya. Maybe I'd get to be a real goil sometimes." she muttered, feeling moronic as she voiced it out loud.

Jack stopped and she looked up at him. He put a warm hand on her cheek and she leaned into it, relishing in the brother she loved so much. His brow dipped as he studied her face.

"You are a real goil. Don't ever let anyone say otherwise. You're just as much a goil as Sarah up there, only you sell papes an' is one of the best fightahs in the Manhattan newsies." his eyes looked at her with a level of sincerity that she wasn't sure she'd seen before. "We don't got a poifect family, but we got one- the two o' us- and that means everythin'. And when we go to Santa Fe you'll be able to wear goil's clothes and act like a regulah lady if ya want. We won't be gettin' chased by Snyder or havin' to hide who we is. Ya understand?"

"Yeah," she smiled, letting him pull her into a hug. "Thanks, Jack."

"Anytime," he smiled back and draped an arm over her, pulling her close as they walked.

"You're real excited about Santa Fe, aren't ya?" she asked, letting his warmth ward off the night's chill as they walked.

"We can't live like this for the rest of our lives, Ali." he said, using the nickname that she'd only let him use. "I don't wanna spend my whole life trapped in this rat town breakin' my back so someone else can live their hoity toity life with all the trimmin's. We got no future here. We can't be newsies forever, sis. There'll be honest woik in Santa Fe. We'll have a ranch with cows, horses, and chickens and all the food we need. We won't ever have to go hungry again."

Al smiled as she listened to her brother go on about everything that was better in Santa Fe. Parts of it sounded too good to be true and she couldn't help but wonder if her brother's head was in the clouds. There had to be a downside. Though to Al, living in the desert with a bunch of animals seemed like a considerable downside to her. She didn't voice her opinion, only listened. She'd follow her brother to the ends of the earth if he decided to go there and she wasn't about to crush his dream because it wasn't to her liking.

She knew they were back at the lodge when her brother's arm slipped off her shoulders. She looked up and adjusted her borrowed cap, making sure no loose hair had fallen through. The two approached the stoop together, seconds after Racetrack, who looked exhausted.

"Hey Race, how was the track?" he asked as they walked in.

"Ya know that hot tip I told ya about?"

"Yeah," Jack answered with a shrug.

"Nobody told the horse."

Al grimaced, "Sorry 'bout that, Racetrack."

"Yeah, well now I'm gonna owe Weasel for today's papes out o' my earnin's today. Looks like I won't be eatin' tomorrow."

"Ya know, if ya spent a lil' less money on the cigahs, you'd have more to eat." Al pointed out. "Cigarettes are cheaper, ya know."

Racetrack scowled and said nothing. Kloppman slammed a hand on the counter and coughed, pointing out the bowl where they were supposed to drop their fare to get them a bed for the night. The three did as they were told and headed up the stairs.

She pulled few extra coins out of her pocket and slipped it in Racetrack's hand as they reached the top.

"Don't buy a cigah with this." she warned with a soft smile. He opened his mouth to refuse it, but Jack cut him off.

"I owe ya two bits anyway and Al told me she bummed a cig offa ya. Keep it."

When they got to the bunkroom, half the boys were already asleep, while a few more were up playing cards. Al stepped over a particularly vicious round of poker and went to the bathroom, readying herself for bed. She pulled an oversized shirt and a pair of loose trousers from the cabinet and changed into them before washing her face and pulling her hair into a loose bun.

She moved past the poker players, nearly tripping on Boots, and slid into her bunk. She drifted off to sleep almost as soon as her head slid under the pillow, lulled into unconsciousness by the loud snores of her older brother.

**_A/N: I hate to resort to begging for reviews, but I feel like I have to because I know more of you have read this than have said anything. I want to keep updating regularly (because I want to get to the good parts :P). I'm not saying I need praise. Let me know what you don't like, too. I just need some feedback!_**


	6. Strike

_**Author's Note: Many thanks to Rachel, Ealasaid Una, and Iloveskitteryandmush for your reviews on the last chapter (as well as well of LucyofNarnia & Narniafan96 for their earlier reviews). It means a lot to me. :)**_

**Chapter 6- Strike**

_They say that we're dreaming too big_

_I say this town's too small_

_~Brand New Day: Ryan Star~_

The next morning proceeded much like the last and Al found herself ambling up to the gates of the New York World Distribution Center just as the circulation bell rang. Les was at her side the moment she stepped through the gates.

"Hey Al, where's Jack?"

"He's runnin' late, kid. Woke up on the wrong side o' the bed." she laughed, tussling his hair. Jack had been dragging his feet all morning and glaring at anyone who dared speak to him. That was usually her reaction to waking up, so she always found it amusing when he was the one to act put out. "Where's your bruddah? I gotta give 'im his hat back."

Les pointed and Al bounded past a few guys to get to him. A hand reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Beat it, Al. Get to the back o' the line like the rest of the slackahs."

"Don't make me laugh, Shifty," Al sneered. "An' I ain't cuttin', I'm givin' somethin' back to a friend. So yous bettah let go o' me before ya start somethin' ya can't follow through with." He backed off at her threat, but his glare didn't falter.

"Man, I hate that kid," Al muttered as she reached David.

"Who?" David turned toward her, apparently having heard her.

"Sorry, talkin' to myself again. Actually, I came to give you this back." she pulled the hat he'd given her the night before out of her back pocket. "I found an old one o' Jack's from before he got 'is cowboy hat."

"Thanks," David smiled, shoving it into his own back pocket. "Ya see the headlines today?"

"Yeah, theys lookin' pretty good. Jack was right again." she rolled her eyes, knowing it would inflate that big head of his. "Bettah invest in a few more papes today, Davy. With 'bloody' in the title, even you are bound to sell a few."

"Hey!" he shoved her playfully, feigning outrage.

"Just kiddin', but seriously. Get a couple extra." She turned to walk away as the Weasel opened shop.

"Ya got ya numbahs wrong, Weasel. I pay you twenty-five, not thirty." Blink's voice carried and Al turned around and readied a snide remark at the man whose name so easily represented his character. Trying to cheat the newsies twice in as many days? Even he couldn't be that stupid.

"The prices changed." Weasel retorted. "Sixty cents per hundred papes now."

"What?" At least ten people, including Al and David, chorused.

"Don't try to play us for fools, Weasel." Al demanded, pushing up through the crowd to face him. "You know newsies can't pay any more than they already do!"

"Yeah, wes barely keepin' off the streets as it is!" a voice called from behind her.

"Pay up or get lost, Kelly. Pulitzer says the prices have changed and if you ain't gonna pay it, let the people through who will."

Angry voices swept through the crowd as Al glared at the man as some of the other newsies pushed past her, murmuring about how they were going to eat tonight.

"They jacked up the price! Ya hear that, Jack? Ten cents a hundred!" She turned at the sound of Kid Blink's voice as he ranted to Jack, who had apparently just arrived. Al moved past Weasel and leaned against one of the metal pillars of the building to watch his reaction. Her brother's brow dipped low as the blonde boy continued, "Ya know, it's bad enough that we gotta eat what we don't sell! Now they jacked up the price!" he sent a glare at Oscar who was immitating him in the window before turning back. "Can you believe that?"

Al slammed her hand against the glass, causing Oscar to flinch back and nearly fall off his perch. She smirked and he sent her a sneer.

"This'll bust me. I'm barely makin' a livin' right now." someone complained behind her. Al didn't bother to turn around and see who it was but it sounded like Skittery.

"And I'm back to sleepin' on the streets." another added.

"It don't make sense. I mean, with all the money Pulitzer's makin'? Why would he gouge us?" Mush questioned.

"'Cause he's a tightwad. That's why." Race muttered.

"Pipe down. It's just a gag." Jack yelled, keeping the group from crumbling into a massive argument.

"No it ain't, Jack. Weasel said Pulitzer 'imself switched it." Al warned, but he continued to the desk.

"Why the jack up, Weasel?" he questioned through the bars.

"Why not?" he stuck his finger in is mouth and pulled it out, feeling for a breeze. "It's a nice day." Jack walked away and Weasel called out after him, "Why don't you ask Mr. Pulitzer?"

Jack almost looked shaken as he seated himself on one of the steps leading down from the platform. Al took a seat behind him as some of the other boys gathered around, eager to find a solution from the man they all respected.

"They can't do this to me, Jack." Blink groaned.

"They can do whatever they want," Racetrack countered. "It's their stinkin' papah."

"It ain't fair." Boots added. "We got no rights at all."

Jack rested his chin in his hand, simply listening as the others continued.

"Come on, it's a rigged deck. They got all the marbles, okay?" Race retorted, pacing with his cigar in hand.

"We can't just sit back. People are gonna go hungry." Al shot back.

"People go hungry every day."

"Doesn't mean it's right." she grumbled.

"Come on, Jack, we got no choice, so let's get our lousy papes while they still got some, huh?" Mush and a few others made to move, but Jack held them off.

"No, nobody's goin' anywhere. They can't get away with this!" he shouted.

This time the group did crumble into groups of quarrels. She found herself in the middle of a debate with David, Dutchy, and Shifty.

"We can't just sit by. What happens when they spike it to eighty?" Al asked.

"Then more of us starve." Shifty groused.

"They wouldn't listen to us anyways." Dutchy fumed. "There's nothing we can do about it."

"There's gotta be something." David interjected.

"Well there isn't."

"You don't know that until you've thought it through."

"You think you're better than us, Mr. Hoity Toity?" Shifty accused. "You wanna keep actin' like you're smartah than the rest of us? 'Cause ya ain't. You tryin' to starts somethin'?"

"Ya start somethin' with him, Shifty, an' ya start somethin' with me. Would ya stop thinkin' with ya fists and listen already?"

"Ya think I'm scared of you and ya big bruddah, Cap?" he growled into her face.

"Clear out, clear out. Give 'im some room. Give 'im some room." The crowd quieted, mostly out of curiosity as Les pushed his way toward Jack. "Let 'im think."

"I'd think yous was alot smartah if ya were." she hissed before turning back.

Everyone looked expectantly at Jack as if he were some all-knowing newsie guru and Al couldn't help but feel for him. He knew everyone was relying on him and that what he said went a long way when it came to the Manhattan newsies. Even the kids who didn't know him personally respected what he had to say.

Blink passed Jack a cigarette to help him think and everyone waited.

"Jack, ya done thinkin' yet?" Racetrack asked impatiently and Jack glared in response.

"'ey, 'ey, 'ey! World employees only on this side o' the gate!" Weasel yelled from the window to Al's right. The entire crowd of newsies yelled insults and he ducked away before they turned back to their leader.

"Well, listen," Jack started, apparently done thinking. "If we don't sell papes, then nobody sells papes. Nobody comes through those gates until they put the price back where it was."

"Whattaya mean- like a strike?" David asked as a couple of the guys voiced their agreement.

"Yeah, like a strike!" Jack replied. Suddenly, everyone was arguing again.

"What are you out of ya mind?" Racetrack asked.

"It's a good idea!"

David moved past Al and leaned down to talk to Jack and she leaned forward to listen. She didn't hear what he had to say at first, but she did hear her brother's response.

"Yeah, but if we go on strike, then we are a union, right?"

"No, we're just a bunch of angry kids with no money." David retorted.

"We gotta do somethin', though." she butted in. "Isn't that what you were just sayin'? This seems like the only option we got."

"Maybe if we got every newsie in New York, but-"

"Yeah, well we organize!" Jack jumped to his feet, pushing David out of his way. "Crutchy, you take up a collection. Get all the newsies in New York togethah." He was so excited that he started walking away, still planning out loud.

"Jack, this isn't a joke!" David called after him. "You saw what happened with those trolley workers."

"Yeah, well that's anothah good idea. Any newsie who don't join with us- we bust they 'eads just like the trolley woikahs."

The crowd chorused their agreement as David and Al ran up to stand on either side of him.

"Think about this, Jack." David pleaded.

"Ya think this is the best idea?" she asked.

"What other choice do we have?" Jack questioned.

"You can't just rush everybody into this." David continued.

"We don't have time to sit on our rears and think about it, David," Al huffed as the group headed toward the statue. "We eithah act now or back down. Which is it?" she directed the last question at her brother.

"Alright," Jack said, swatting them away like pesky flies. "Lemme think about it." When they reached the statue, he turned around to address the crowd. "Now listen, Dave's right. I mean, Pulitzer and Hurst and all the othah rich fellas. They own this city. So do they really think a buncha street rats like us can make any difference? The choice has gotta be yours. Are we just gonna take what they give us or are we gonna strike?

Les was the first to answer. He raised his sword in the best call to arms a nine year-old could muster and yelled at the top of his lungs.

"STRIKE!"


	7. He Won't Whip Us

_**Author's Note: For those of you who haven't looked up the actual 1899 Newsboy Strike, you really should. Who knew Kid Blink was the actual leader? I can't wait to find out more. :)**_

_**Also, I realized that I named one of my OC's Shifty and it's getting confused with Swifty from the actual movie. These are not the same people! I didn't mean to make them that similar, but I had a lapse of memory when I created him. :/ Sorry for the confusion! I probably won't even mention Swifty in the story, that way you won't have to get any more confused. Lol.**_

_**And lastly, thanks to LucyOfNarnia, mysterygirl, NarniaFan96, and Ealasaid Una for their lovely reviews! You should really see the way I squeal when I find out I have a new review (it's kind of embarrassing, actually). Haha. Thanks for making my day that much brighter. :D**_

**Chapter 7- He Won't Whip Us**

Suddenly, the entire group of newsies were cheering, apparently having jumped on the bandwagon. David grabbed Les and slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was already too late. Al couldn't resist it and gave the kid a high five, much to his older brother's chagrin.

"Keep talkin', Jack!" Boots called from where he stood. "Tell us what to do!"

Jack walked back to where David and Al were standing against the base of the statue.

"You tell us what to do, Dave."

She and Jack watched him as the crowd began to move in closer. Dave looked at Jack first, then Al. Finally, he sighed.

"Pulitzer and Hearst have to respect our rights."

Jack flashed him a grin and turned to the other newsies.

"Hey listen!" he yelled. "Pulitzer and Hearst have to respect the rights of the woiken boys o' New York! That's right!" He turned back. "Well, that woiked pretty good, so what else?" Everyone leaned in, eager to hear what was going to be said next.

"Tell 'em that they can't treat us like we don't exist."

Jack jumped onto the base of the statue. "Pulitzer and Hearst, they think we're nothin'! Are we nothin'?"

"No!" the newsies screamed.

He dropped back onto one knee. "Yous got anythin' to say, Al?"

She just smiled and reached a hand out for him. He reciprocated by pulling her up beside him. "They don't care if we starve! We're street rats! They don't think we mattah!" she yelled, looking various newsies in the eye. "Do we mattah?"

"Yes!" the newsies roared back.

Al and Jack reached down for David at the same time. They looked at each other with pleased grins before turning back to David, who shook his head in amusement, but grasped their arms and let them pull him up. He turned to the crowd.

"We stick together like the trolley workers and they can't break us up! We're a union now. The Newsboys Union. We have to start actin' like a union!"

"Pulitzer and Hearst- they think they got us! Do they got us?" Jack cried.

"No!"

"Even though we ain't got hats or badges, we're a union 'cause we say so!"

"What's to stop others from buyin' our papes?" Boots questioned.

"Well, we'll talk with 'em." Jack answered easily.

"Some o' them don't hear so good." Racetrack responded.

"Then we'll soak 'em!" he roared and the boys got rowdy at the idea of fighting.

"No! We can't beat up kids on the street. It'll give us a bad name!" David argued with both Jack and the crowd.

"Wes already got a bad name, Davy." Al shot back, very matter-of-fact.

"It can't get any woise!" Crutchy agreed from below.

"What's it gonna take to stop the wagons? Are we ready?" Jack asked.

"Yeah!"

"No!" David was getting desperate.

"What's it gonna take to stop the scabbahs? Can we do it?" Her brother continued his war cry, regardless of his friend.

"Yeah!"

"We gotta do what we gotta do!" Al cried, fully on her brother's side. "We ain't gonna let some doity scabbahs keep us from 'avin' food on our tables because they ain't listenin' to us! In fact, wes probably doin' somma them hard-o'-hearin' newsies a favah! Beat sense inta their heads!"

"The Woild's gonna know that they can't trample us! We been hawkin' headlines, but we're makin' 'em today! Who's with me?" Jack cried

The newsies were beyond riled up, now. Al pulled Les up so he wouldn't get hit by any of the flailing boys. She knew all too well how easy it was to come under friendly fire, so to speak, in an excited group of boys. He beamed up at her and she suspected his gratefulness was more for the fact that he was getting the chance to stand on the statue than for the fact she saved him from certain injury.

"When the circulation bell starts ringin'- will we hear it?" Jack cried.

"No!"

"An' if they try to shut us up- will that stop us?" Al asked.

"No!"

"We're gonna show 'em what stop the presses really means!" Jack thundered and the newsies went wild. The four jumped down one at a time and the group excitedly followed them as they headed to the head of the Journal Distribution Center. Weasel had the boys close the gates before any of the crazed newsies could damage any of the merchandise or the area where he handed out the papes, so Jack headed to the front door of the New York World and climbed up to where the headlines were written in chalk near the top of the building.

Al started getting worried and tried to stand on her tiptoes to scan the crowd of people in the background, who were watching their little display. If Snyder saw him, it would all be over in a heartbeat. She gave up after a few seconds, seeing as she was shorter than most of the guys and decided to turn around and see what her brother was up to.

"Pulitzer may own the world, but he don't own us!" Jack screamed from the top, having written 'STRIKE' over the day's headlines. "Pulitzer may crack the whip, but he won't whip us!" Al pulled a half-surprised face. Her brother was generally pretty clever, but that had to be one of the wittiest she'd heard him say.

"We can do this!" The booming voice from her left made Al jump and she realized that David was finally all the way in. He had mellowed out a bit with the whole soaking issue, but it looked like he was over that now. "The things we do today will be tomorrow's news! If we stick together, the World has to hear us!"

The boys whooped uproarously and Al couldn't help but join them. It was all too exciting. They were really starting their own strike! The newsies were finally going to be recognized by their so-called superiors.

"Strike! Strike! Strike!" Everyone chanted and they all broke into cheering again as Jack climbed down. Most hurried to slap him on the back, but a few approached Al and David as well, encouraging them and patting them on the back with barely contained ecstasy.

"We gotta get woid out to all the newsies in New York." Jack said when he reached the two of them. "I need somma those- whattaya call 'em?" he looked at David expectantly, pushing his hands out.

"Ambassadors?" he guessed. Al couldn't figure out how he could come up with that from Jack pushing his hands out awkwardly, but the look on her brother's face said he had answered correctly.

"Yeah!" Jack smiled and looked back into the crowd. "Right, you guys! You gotta be am'bastards," Al chuckled along with multiple others at his obvious mispronunciation. "And go tell the others that we're on strike!"

"Say, Jack," Kid Blink called. "I'll take Harlem."

"Yeah, I got Mid Town." Racetrack told him.

Crutchy and Mush claimed their territory and Jack assigned other groups to different areas of the city.

"So, what about Brooklyn? Who wants Brooklyn?" The remaining newsies fidgeted. "Come on, Spot Conlon's territory." They all avoided eye contact, pretending to talk to each other and muttering about their neighboring borough.

"Ya already sent out all the boys who aren't scared o' Conlon." Al said, laying a hand on her brother's shoulder and coming up beside him.

"Whatsa matter? Ya scared o' Brooklyn?" Jack asked them in response. You could've heard a pin drop. "Fine, Dave an' I'll go instead."

"I'm comin' with you." Al told her brother.

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Al." he responded, quiet enough that only David and Al could hear him.

"You two aren't goin' in there alone." she crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared him down.

Jack growled irritably. "Fine, but stay close to Davy and I. Dave, you're in, right?"

"Alright, I'll go. . . Just as soon as you take our demands in to Pulitzer." David told him.

"Me to Pulitzer?" Jack questioned, swallowing nervously at the prospect.

"You're the leader, Jack." David smirked, poking his friend in the chest. The crowd yelled encouragements as Jack considered it.

"Well, maybe the kid'll soften 'im up." Jack said quickly and grabbed Les, heading in the doorway as the crowd began to chant again.

"Go on, spread the news!" Al ordered and most of them hurried off, a few lingering to congratulate the two who waited for Jack.

An important-looking man walked up to David and Al and the two shared a glance before looking at him. He had dark blond hair that he'd combed to look nice as well as kind eyes that regarded them curiously.

"Hey what is this strike? What's going on?" he asked.

"Uh, we're taking our demands to Pulitzer." David answered.

"What demands?"

"The newsies' demands. We're on strike."

"They hiked up the price of papes for the newsies." Al added.

"Huh," the man smiled. "I'm with the New York Sun. Bryan Denton. You seem like the kids in charge. What's your names?"

"David Jacobs and this is Al Kelly."

"You really think Pulitzer's gonna listen to your demands?" Denton asked.

"Well he has to."

Just then Jack and Les came stumbling out of the doorway, the former looking angry.

"Yeah, well same to your old lady!" he yelled at the rapidly closing doors. "You tell Pulitzer he needs an appointment with me!"

"Yeah!" Les chimed in.

The doors closed and Bryan Denton offered to buy the four lunch so he could talk about the strike.

"What's the catch?" Al asked, eyes narrowed.

"Does there have to be a catch?" he laughed.

"There usually is. People don't just buy a buncha kids lunch outta the goodness of their hearts. This is New York. So what's ya angle?" she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Like I said, I'm really interested in this strike of yours. If you kids take this all the way then I could be talking to front page news right now. Any smart reporter would be jumping at the chance."

"Alright, I believe ya." she finally conceded. "Let's go."


	8. Brooklyn

_**Author's Note: And we're headed to the grounds o' Brooklyn, aka. Spot Conlon's territory. This chapter is longer than most and I had fun writing it, so I hope you have plenty of fun reading it.  
>Thanks to Narniafan96, LucyofNarnia, and Ealasaid Una for their awesome reviews. :) I always want to hear what my readers think, so y'all don't forget to review!<strong>_

**Chapter 8- Brooklyn**

_You hit me once  
>I hit you back<br>__You gave a kick  
>I gave a slap<br>You smashed a plate over my head  
>So I set fire to our bed<br>__~Kiss With A Fist: Florence + the Machine~_

"You sure you wanna pay for us, Denton?" David asked as they took their seats at Tibby's, a favorite hangout of the newsies when they could afford the food.

"Don't question the man, Davy. He's just bein' hospitable," Jack laughed as Les scooted in beside him.

"Get ya feet off my chair, Jack," Al growled, shoving them out of the way so she could seat herself across from him.

"I'm sure," Denton answered David's question, clearly amused. "It's my pleasure."

It wasn't long before the waiter came along and took their orders along with their menus. The group settled in as they waited for their food.

"So what is it ya wanna know about us?" Al asked, resting her chin on her hand, surveying the man in front of them.

"You don't beat around the bush," he remarked as he pulled out his notepad and pen.

"We's newsies, Denton. We make our money by gettin' straight to the point." Jack shrugged after pointing out what he assumed was an obvious point.

"Well, tell me a little bit about yourselves. What's your story? What's your life like?"

"Well, Les and I used to go to school, but our dad got hurt in the factory and we had to find a job to support our family," David offered. "I figured bein' a newsie was the best place to start."

"What about you two?" Denton asked after writing a few notes. "When did you start being newsies?"

"We don't do back stories, 'specially not to the press. No offense," Jack answered. "All yous need to know is that we been doin' this for years. Home is where the newsies are."

"Okay," Denton said slowly, writing still. He paused. "How old are each of you?"

"Almost Ten."

"Sixteen."

"Fifteen."

"Sixteen."

"So Al, what's it like being a girl newsie?"

She choked on her soda and nearly sent it spewing into her brother's face.

"That's not goin' in the papes!" Jack warned, not even bothering to deny it. He sat up straighter and eyed the man at the end of the table. "Not a woid about her bein' a goil or I'll soak ya."

"Don't threaten him, Jack," David hissed. "That won't help any."

"Why can't I mention it?" Denton asked, now even more curious.

Al sighed. "It'd make things 'round here alot harder on us. Alot of the 'Hattan newsies know and most o' Brooklyn. I mean, I know I don't look too boyish, so it ain't hard to find out. But. . . let's just say it'll make more trouble for us than we need right now."

"I gots enemies that already target 'er 'cause she's my 'bruddah'. Things'd only get woise if they knew she was a goil," Jack told him gravely. He was only telling a half truth. Most of their concern was that Kloppman would see it, though some of it lay with what he said. The streets of New York just weren't safe for a girl and she didn't want things getting harder for her any more than her brother did.

"So please don't say anything," David tacked on.

Denton raised his hands in mock surrender. "My lips are sealed."

They were served a few minutes later and the group took some time to dig in before Denton began questioning them again.

"So why is this strike so important to you?"

"Newsies don't have rights." David started this time. "We need Pulitzer and Hearst to realize that we're one of their driving forces in selling papers at all. They've gotta treat us with the respect we deserve."

"Most newsies can barely pay for the papes they get on regulah basis," Al continued. "We don't complain and we share what we got with each other if we can. We're like a family. We help each othah outta the tough stuff. We got each other's backs whethah it's in a fight or to keep 'em from starvin'. But this is too much. Spikin' the price'll put 'alf of our boys back on the streets or with empty stomachs an' that ain't right."

Denton nodded, new sympathy in his eyes. Al couldn't decide whether she was happy with that reaction or not. The newsies didn't want pity, they wanted respect.

"Our plan is to get all the newsies in New York to join us. If we stick together, they can't keep trampling us. Jack sent out ambassadors to Queens, the Bronx, Harlem, and the other boroughs when he tried to take our demands to Pulitzer," David finished off.

"How did that go anyways, Jack?" Al questioned. Jack settled back in his part of the booth as he finished the last bite of his meal.

"So this real snooty mug says to me, 'You can't see Mr. Pulitzer. No one sees Mr. Pulitzer.' Real hoity toity, ya know the type?"

"Real hoity toity," Les echoed.

"So that's when I says to him, 'Listen, I ain't in the habit o' transactin' no business with office boys. Just tell 'im Jack Kelly's here to see 'im now.'"

"That's when 'e threw us out," Les stated, very matter-of-fact. David and Al burst into laughter as Jack smacked Les in the shoulder. He shot the two laughing at him a glare.

"Does it scare you? You're going up against the most powerful man in New York City."

"Oh yeah, look at me. I'm tremblin'." Jack laughed in response. He looked over at the clock. "Is that the time? We gotta get movin'. We got business with Brooklyn."

"You didn't send someone to tell them?" Denton asked.

"Naw, they're all too scared o' Brooklyn's leadah. We's gonna go over there ourselves," Jack said, nudging Les out of the booth so he could stand. "'Sides, I can't afford havin' one o' the boys screw this up. Brooklyn'll be the key to it all."

"Alright, keep me informed. I wanna know everything that's going on." He handed a sheet of paper to David, who stuffed it in his pocket.

"Are we really an important story?" the boy asked.

"Well, what's important? Last year I covered the war in Cuba; charged the San Juan Hill with Teddy Roosevelt. That was a very important story. So," he stood, pushing in his chair. "Is the Newsie Strike important? It all depends on you."

The group headed out together after one of the waiters helped the man put on his coat.

"So my name's really gonna be in the papahs?" Jack asked.

"Any objections?"

"Not as long as you get it right. Kelly. Jack Kelly." He smirked. "But Denton? No pictures."

"Sure," he smiled and started to head off. "Good luck with Brooklyn!" he called over his shoulder.

"We're gonna need it," Al muttered.

They dropped Les off at his house before they headed across the bridge. It took them a while, most of the time being spent on the Brooklyn Bridge, which took forever and a day to cross.

"I've never been to Brooklyn. Have you?" David asked when they were a little more than halfway to the end.

"'Course we have," Al laughed. "Why do ya think we live in Manhattan?"

Jack laughed at that.

"So is this- is this Spot Conlon really dangerous?"

"Not if ya stay on 'is good side," Jack responded, keeping the three moving. "Brooklyn's pretty. . . different. But we gotta get 'im on our side. He's the key."

They were greeted by a few of Spot's newsies not long after they got off the bridge.

"Well if it ain't Cap an' Cowboy. This's Brooklyn turf. You'd bettah beat it 'fore we soak ya."

"Shaddup, Red. We're here to see Conlon," Al told him spitefully.

"Whattaya want with our leadah?" another boy with dark hair ambled up with his brother behind him. Checkers and Chess, Al remembered.

"That's fah his ears, not yours," Jack answered. "You gonna take us to 'im?"

"I dunno," Red responded, an ugly sneer parting his lips. "I think you needa learn a lesson or two about loyalties instead."

"An' about bringin' ya pretty little sistah into company that ain't so nice," Chess added, reaching out to run a finger along Al's jawline. She smacked his hand away.

"Hands off," David growled.

"We're undah Spot's protection while we're here unless he says otherwise. You know that, boys." Jack shifted in front of his sister, looking tense. "He's gonna be mad if you rough up his guests."

"Spot'll get over it," Red announced.

He swung the first punch and Jack ducked under it as Chess and Checkers went for David and Al. The former tackled her and she landed hard on her back, the air rushing out of her. He got in one good punch before she started swinging back. He got another two hits in, but she dodged one and his fists crunched into the pavement, giving her the opportunity for the four good hits that knocked him off of her.

She jumped onto her feet and Chess wasn't far behind her. She blocked two of his swings and grabbed his shoulders, ignoring a good punch he got to her ribs as she kneed him in the stomach.

"What's goin' on here?" a boy who looked a year or two older than Al yelled, causing all action to cease. Chess hit his knees and she tried not to laugh at the idiotic expression on his face. The new addition ran up and got in Jack's face, grabbing him by the collar and pulling back his arm, ready to strike.

"You got no right bein' here, Kelly," he hissed. "You'll go home if ya know what's good for ya." He let go and Jack rolled his eyes.

"We got business with Conlon. These idiots jumped us." Jack coughed and tested his jaw by moving it around with his fingers.

The kid shook his head and backhanded Red. "What were you thinkin', huh? What convinced you to pull a stupid stunt like that?"

"They're traitahs," he hissed in response as Chess and Checkers moved to stand behind him, leaving the Manhattan newsies be. He spat and it landed on Al's shoe, much to her irritation. She wiped it off on the back of her pant leg.

"Yeah? Well so are the three of you for disobeyin' ordahs."

The kid introduced himself as Payphone and decided to lead them to Spot. Al cursed as she realized that the tie holding her bun was missing. Her hair now fell around her face. She pushed her cap onto her head and growled in irritation.

A few more newsies joined the bandwagon, knowing the Manhattan newsies didn't just walk into Brooklyn for a social call.

They reached the docks and the amount of activity around them swelled. Payphone let Jack lead the way with Al and David flanking him and the other curious newsies trailing behind. Most of the boys were swimming after a hard day's work or lounging around nearby. Nearly all took interest in the arrival of the Manhattan newsie leader and his friends.

"Well if it ain't the Kelly siblings!" someone called out.

"Looks like Ali's grown up!"

"Traitahs!"

"Think you can weasel your way back in, Jacky-boy?"

One of the boys who'd just pulled himself from the water stood in front of them with a fierce grin, "Goin' somewhere, Kelly?"

Jack scowled, but didn't acknowledge the comment, choosing to walk around him instead.

"Hey Ali, ya wanna share my bed for a while so's I can see just _how_ grown up ya are?"

Al grit her teeth, knowing she had practically signed herself up for this. The catcalls and insults continued to fly at the Kelly siblings, though the only indication they had heard was the way their entire bodies tensed as they walked. It wasn't until they reached Spot Conlon on his perch that the Brooklyn boys stopped their jeering.

The group ducked under a beam, one by one, and they hop-skipped over the last few boys before getting to him.

"Well if it isn't Jack be nimble, Jack be quick," Spot called, eyeing them.

"So you moved up in the woild, Spot. Got a rivah view an' everythin'," Jack responded. Spot gave a tight-lipped smile and jumped down to their level. The two leaders spit shook and Jack clapped his counterpart on the back like they were old friends.

"You three look a little woise for the wear. What happened?"

"Ya boys jumped us, Conlon," Al said through gritted teeth, probably more gruff than necessary.

"What?" Spot's eyes flashed with anger. He fixed Payphone with an accusatory glare. "Theys undah my protection. Didn't I make that clear?"

"It wasn't me, Spot. It was Red, Chess, and Checkers."

The three offenders practicaly cowered at the glare their fuming leader sent them. "I'll take care o' the three of yous once I get done here," he promised threateningly, then turned back to his three guests.

"Didn't know you was gonna bring you're lovely sistah this time, Jacky-boy." He took her hand and kissed it. "We miss ya round these parts, Ali."

He pushed her hair out of her face as he inspected her face, probably looking at a bruise. She stiffened at his touch.

"So I've hoid from ya boys," she answered and pulled away, jaw working a muscle. "An' my name's Al. I don't go by Ali anymore."

"Boys will be boys." Spot shrugged, knowing she was referring to the catcalls now. "They won't mess with ya any more'n yellin' if they know what's good for 'em." He turned back to Manhattan's leader. "So Jacky-boy, I been hearin' things from little boids."

"Yeah?"

"Things from Harlem, Queens, all over. They been chirpin' in my ear. Jack's newsies is playin' like they goin' on strike."

"Yeah, well we are."

"But we're not playin'," David cut in. "We are goin' on strike."

"Oh yeah? Yeah?" Spot leaned into his face condescendingly. "What is this, Jacky-boy? Some kinda walkin' mouth?"

"Yeah, it's a mouth," Jack slapped his hands down on David's shoulders. "A mouth with a brain an' if you got half o' one, you'll listen to what he's got to say."

Spin nodded and sat, looking at David expectantly.

"Come on, tell 'im." Al nudged his back before going to stand next to her brother.

"Well we started the strike, but, uh, we can't do it alone so we've been talkin' to other newsies all around the city."

"Yeah," Spot cut in. "So they told me. But what did they tell you?" He was definitely interested, but also clearly wary.

"They're waitin' to see what Spot Conlon does- that you're the key. That Spot Conlon is the most respected in the city- in all of New York and probably everywhere else," he said. Al looked at her brother, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, only to find a similar expression on his face. David had some major skill with that mouth of his. "An' if Spot Conlon joins the strike, then they'll join and we'll be unstoppable. So you gotta join us, because- well ya gotta." Al moved forward and clapped David on the back as he finished.

Spot gave Jack a look that said he was both impressed and surprised.

"You were right, Jack," he said as he stood. "Brains. But I got brains too, an' more than just half o' one."

Al took a cigarette from her pocket and lit up, nudging David in case he wanted a smoke. As far as she could tell, he didn't smoke, but she didn't want to be rude. He shook his head, too busy watching Spot and Jack intently.

"How do I know you punks won't run the first time some goon comes at you with a club? How do I know you got what it takes to win?" He shook his cane in front of David's face.

"Because I'm tellin' ya, Spot," Jack answered seriously.

"That ain't good enough, Jacky-boy. Ya gotta show me," Spot responded.

"You seen us fight, Spot. You know we ain't gonna back down from a couple o' greasy scabbahs," Al retorted.

"It's not you I doubt." Spot rolled his neck. "I know you and Cowboy here is scrappahs. You're gonna fight until ya can't no more. Even the walkin' mouth over here looks like he's got enough fire in 'im for the job. It's the rest o' your crew I'm wary about. This is biggah than a lil' fist fight over territory."

"They're serious about it, alright. It's that or they starve," she shot back.

"Like I says," Spot reiterated. "Ya gotta show me."

He had Payphone and his friend walk the Manhattan newsies back to the bridge, though quite a few more joined to watch the Kelly siblings and their friend go, still hurling their insults.

"Hey you did pretty good in that tussle back there, Davy. Was that ya foist fight?" Jack asked, clearly surprised.

"I've been in one or two fights at school, but nothing like that."

"Well ya could've fooled me!" Jack laughed, smacking him on the back in congratulations. "I'll bet breakin' Checkers' nose felt great!" His face took on an almost dreamy look.

"You broke his nose?" Al asked, surprised. She hadn't bothered to get a good look at either Jack or David's opponents after the fight.

"Yeah and I can't get the blood off my hand." he said, wiggling his fingers so she could see the blood dried on the back of his hand. She scrunched up her nose in disgust and he laughed.

"Good job, anyways!" she beamed. "And don't worry, we'll wash ya up before ya head home."

"Good. I don't think Momma would be too pleased if I came home lookin' like this," David answered. There were a few moments of silence before he continued. "Why is Brooklyn so upset with the two of you, anway?"

"Before we started woiken in 'Hattan, we was Brooklyn newsies." Jack told him. "It was before Conlon took powah, when MacIntosh was still head o' the boys. It wasn't a pretty time." He and Al grimaced almost simultaneously.

"We was just kids then. It was too much for us. Jack decided it wasn't safe and we beat it. Some o' them are still fumin' about it," Al added.

"You aren't worried about them causin' trouble in Manhattan if they join us?"

"We can handle ourselves if we have to, Davy, but they won't undermine Spot." Jack reassured him, putting one arm around his friend and another around his sister. "He's got them Brooklyn boys under control."


	9. Seize the Day

_**Author's Note: This story has hit Chapter 20 on my laptop and it's still kicking. Haha. I may say this every time, but I simply cannot get over how much I'm enjoying the writing of this. I get this overwhelming glee every time I finish a chapter, even more so when I upload another. :)  
>Huge thanks to Austra, Narniafan96, stress, and Ealasaid Una for their spectacularly awesome reviews! :D<strong>_

**Chapter 9- Seize the Day**

The group of three headed to the Manhattan Newsboys Lodging house together. When they got close, Al stopped and twisted her hair up, securing the cap over it.

"Any loose bits?" she asked. Both boys shook their heads.

They approached the house, dodging hordes of the younger boys going at each other with sticks they used as swords. Mush and Blink were standing near the door smoking and making sure none of the kids killed each other.

"What happened to the three of ya?" Mush questioned when he saw them coming. He looked worried.

"We got jumped by some Brooklyn boys still holdin' a grudge," Al responded with a shrug.

"Want us to track 'em down, Cowboy?" he asked.

"Naw, Conlon's got it undah control an' we soaked 'em pretty good. We're just gonna wash up so we stop scarin' folks." He was right. People had been giving the group odd looks and no one could blame them- especially with the amount of blood on David's arm. He looked like he had just killed someone.

They headed in the door and up the stairs.

"So this is where you live," David said, half to himself as he watched Al step over Itey, Boots, and Snipeshooter who were playing cards in the middle of the room to his right.

"Yeah, this is the Newsboys Lodge," Al responded, she patted the bunk to her left as she faced him. "This is mine and Jack's bunk. He's top and I'm bottom."

"You sleep in the same room as all the guys?" he half-whispered, not wanting Kloppman to overhear.

"Where else am I gonna sleep?" She looked at him like he was crazy. "I been sleepin' in this bunk room for years. It ain't like the boys're gonna try somethin'. Most of 'em are like bruddahs to me. The only one that evah tried got 'imself a black eye from me and a broken arm from Racetrack, who only got to 'im before Jack 'cause when I pushed 'im offa me, he hit Race's bed." She pointed to the bottom bunk slightly in front of her, adjacent to where she slept, and laughed as if the memory were funny. It wasn't so much the memory of the incident as it was the look on the kid's face when Racetrack came at him like a feral grizzly.

_You shoulda known bettah than to mess with my family _she remembered him growling, eyes still half closed from sleep as the bone snapped. Jack took over a few minutes later and Racetrack was in bed snoring again before she had time to register what had just happened. That was when she knew Racetrack was the closest thing to a brother she had outside of Jack.

She stepped over the boys again and waved him into the washroom where Jack was splashing his face with water.

"How's ya ribs, Jacky?" she asked. His face didn't look like it'd been touched, but she didn't try to fool herself into thinking Red hadn't landed a hit on her brother.

"They're just a little sore," he commented as he dried his face off. "You take any gut punches?"

"Naw, just my face," she responded coming up beside him.

"You can take this sink ovah here, Dave. I'm done with it."

Al looked at her reflection and grimaced. Her shiner from the Central Park thugs had just been clearing up and now it was darker again, a little bigger too. Half of her right eye and temple was quickly swelling and she didn't even have to look down to know that her knuckles were skinned.

"What happened to him?" David asked as he scrubbed at the blood on his hands and she turned the water on.

"What happened to who?"

"The guy who messed with you. Is he still around?"

"Oh, o' course not. Jack kicked 'im out and told 'im if he ever saw him again, he'd break both 'is arms. Last I hoid, he was carryin' the bannah in Harlem."

"That's good." David responded as Al dried her hands. She reached up and twisted her hair into a small bun, using a rubber band she had grabbed. When her hair was secure, she splashed her face with water, scrubbing it gently until it was clean.

When she finished, she put her cap back on her head and looked at David. His lower lip was split and swollen, but that was it. She knit her eyebrows together.

"Ya take any gut punches?" she asked.

"Yeah, a couple," he answered honestly.

"Lift up your shirt." Sure enough, he had a good handful of bruises on his right side. She felt the bone, but nothing was broken and for that she was thankful. She didn't think they had been, but you could never be too careful.

"Now lemme see ya hands." He huffed, but held them out for her, palms down. She grimaced at their bedraggled state. Fresh blood oozed from his wounds.

"Why doesn't Jack have to get examined?" he asked, looking put out.

"He knows 'ow to patch hisself up aftah a fight. You don't. If 'e needed my help, he'd o' asked for it already."

"That's Al for ya- a regulah doctah." Jack smirked.

She rolled her eyes at her brother and reached for a cubby above the mirror to grab a few white strips of cloth that weren't too long. She wrapped them around David's hands, tying them off as she talked.

"Kloppman keeps as many bandages in here as he can for us. He don't like that we fight as much as we do, but he's a good guy and takes care of us best 'e can." She finished up and waved Jack over so she could wrap his knuckles too. His and her own didn't come out nearly as bad as David's, mostly for the fact that their knuckles were pretty calloused already. Still, they were definitely skinned enough that bandages were welcome.

When they were done, David stayed long enough to hear the news from Jack's 'am-bastards'. New York's newsies were in an uproar over the price spike and plenty of the other region leaders were just trying to deal with the aftershocks it took on their boys. Most of them held a wary optimism about the idea of a strike. Staten Island and the Bronx agreed to follow through with it, but the rest weren't going to budge unless Brooklyn pledged themselves to the cause.

Jack sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking antsy as they sent David home. The siblings sat on Jack's bed a few moments later and began to talk in hushed tones.

"Jack, we gottah break into the Santa Fe money," Al told him regretfully, rubbing the back of her neck and looking down so she wouldn't have to see the look on her brother's face. "If we don't, some of our boys is gonna starve. An' Kloppman won't start kickin' kids out for a couple more days, but he'll have to at some point. 'e can't risk losin' the place 'cause we's on strike. It's already gonna hit him undah the belt same as us. If we don't get paid, he don't get paid."

She knew it was putting his dream a little further out of reach and she felt bad being the one to tell him this, but there wasn't much room for alternatives. Sometimes real life has to take precedence over dreams. After months of saving, the two of them had finally gotten a full three dollars saved up and had the crisp bills to prove it. They still had a ways to go, though. A ticket to Santa Fe was five dollars per seat. After that, of course, was the cost of a ranch and livestock.

"Yeah, but how are we gonna split it between 'em?" She looke up, surprised at his level-headed answer. He seemed a little hurt, but he knew this was important. He gave her a look, knowing what she was thinking. "I gotta take care o' my boys before takin' care o' myself."

They spent the next half hour trying to plan out how they'd make the money last. Finally, it was decided that they'd keep one dollar for themselves plus what they had left of yesterday's earnings. One dollar of the remaining two would go toward buying bread that the newsies who couldn't buy their own meals would share. The last dollar would go towards keeping some of the boys in the house longer after Kloppman started kicking them out.

They still had the problem of figuring out how to discern who needed what. They couldn't just pass out money.

When it was dark, Jack had a meeting with all the newsies who stayed in the Lodge, letting him know that if they needed help, they'd do whatever they could to help him. He wasn't about to let them drown without throwing them some sort of life jacket. The boys gave them their thanks and they all bedded down for the night.

Al woke to someone smacking her pillow rhythmically like they were playing a drum and she growled as she shoved it off of her. Jack's grinning face leaned over her and she pushed him away.

"Get outta my face," she snarled.

"Wake up boys!" Jack crowed. "It's the first day of the strike!"

Al pushed herself off her bunk and headed into the washroom. She washed her hair in the sink and washed her body with a soapy hand towel in one of the stalls before pulling on her clothes.

Specs greeted her with a broad smile when she came out.

"What're you so happy about?" she groused adjusting her cap.

"Aw, come on, Cap! Ain't you even a little excited about the strike?" He threw an arm around her as she went for the mirror and checked that her hair wasn't poking out. She grimaced at her reflection again. Half of her right eye was swollen shut- definitely not an attractive look for her. On the bright side, she could forego the dirt for a day or two.

"Maybe I'd be a little more excited if I was awake."

Specs just laughed and walked away as Al rolled her eyes. You'd think that after knowing her as long as they did, the boys would learn to keep their distance in the morning, at least until she was fully awake. She had a sneaking suspicion that they enjoyed harassing her.

She met up with the others in front of the Greely statue. She punched Jack in the arm almost immediately.

"Hey! What gives?" he winced, rubbing the sore spot.

"You ever wake me by drummin' on my face again and I'll murdah ya and toss ya in the rivah."

"Be careful, Jack, I think she's serious," David laughed as he came up behind Racetrack. The boys parted to let him in, laughing at his comment.

"Hey Dave!" Jack greeted him cheerily. "How was ya night?"

"Well, both Momma and Sarah nearly had a heart attack, but Les seems to think I'm a hero now." He shrugged, eyes wandering over to where his little brother fenced with another of the smaller boys.

"Good think ya washed up before ya went, then," Mush laughed. "You was lookin' alot worse before ya did."

"No kidding," he answered, grimacing.

"So what's the plan?" Racetrack hedged. "How're we gonna do this if Spot's not joinin'?"

"He's concoined about us bein' serious. That don't mean he said no," Jack responded almost irritably. The other boys started fidgeting, looking doubtful and Al felt her stomach turn. There was no way they were going to back down now! She knew the boys would follow Jack no matter what he said, but they needed to have their full support in this if it was going to work.

"Well, ya know, Jack, maybe we oughta ease off a little, ya know?" Racetrack responded, taking a drag from a cigarette.

"Without Spot and the others, there's not enough of us, Jack," Blink added.

"Ya know, maybe we're movin' too soon." Mush suggested.

"An' when should we move, then?" Al sent him a fierce glare. "When it hits a dollah for a hundred?"

"No," he answered. "I'm just sayin-"

"Hey, who we kiddin' here? Spot was right, is this just a game to you guys?" Jack asked angrily. David looked troubled as a chorus of voices tried to deny the accusation of their leader, but it faded into mumbling. "No wondah Brooklyn waited. Yous is tryin' to back out o' this and no one even threatened ya."

"Now that's not fair, Cowboy," Blink responded.

Al was distracted from the ensuing argument as David hoisted himself onto the base of the Greely statue and looked out over the crowd. He took a calming breath, his shuffling foot the only other indication of his nervousness at addressing all the newsies without Jack as his mouthpiece.

Al nudged her brother, who followed her gaze in response. He turned to the boys who weren't paying attention and yelled, "Newsies! David's got somethin' to say!"

Silence hit the crowd like a tidal wave as all eyes turned to the newest member of their gang.

"We gotta seize the day." David gulped and looked to her. She nodded encouragingly, urging him to continue. He curled his right hand into a fist, then flexed his fingers. "I know everyone's getting nervous about this. Brooklyn hasn't chosen a stance and that's got everyone antsy, but we can't afford to be afraid." He was getting the hang of it now and his words were coming faster, his voice getting louder, as he went on. "Nothing can break us unless we let it and no one can make us give our rights away. So we've gotta seize the day, newsies! We've gotta raise up the torch and light the way! If we blaze the trail, others will follow. Brooklyn didn't start this strike. Neither did Harlem or Queens. We did! Manhattan did! And we can't afford to give in to doubt and fear. We're one for all and all for one! So let's seize the day!"

He pumped a fist and the newsies roared their approval. Jack was practically beaming at his new friend as David jumped down. The boys started talking excitedly amongst themselves.

"I think Conlon was right, Jack," Al grinned, clapping her friend on the back. "We're gonna have to start callin' you Walkin' Mouth Jacobs!"

"There ya go, ya gotcha own newsie name now," the Manhattan leader laughed. "Ya did good up there, Davy."

"Thanks."

Just then the circulation bell rang and the Kelly siblings shared a look.

"Anybody hear that?" Al yelled.

"No!" the response was unanimous. David had outdone himself.

"What are we gonna do about it?" Jack asked.

"Soak 'em!"


	10. Crutchy

_**Author's Note: This was another seriously fun chapter, but then again, most of them are for me. Thanks a thousand times to Austra and Narniafan96 for their rock awesome reviews that brought a beaming smile to my face when I read them. :)**_

**Chapter 10- Crutchy**

_I might let you down  
>But I won't let you go<br>~All That Matters: Addison Road~_

The group of newsies surged through the gate, all but trampling the ones stupid- er, brave?- enough to try buying papers. Jack, David, and Al were near the back, but the group parted for them so they could move to the front. Jack took charge, as usual, while Al and David stood beside him at the steps leading down from where Weasel and his boys were situated. A few of the more intimidating boys sidled up behind the ones in line, giving them dark looks as they hovered.

Skinny was the first boy to buy his papes. He started down the steps and realized the other newsies weren't planning on letting him through. He was a good kid, Al thought, and she hoped he would back down. Sure enough, he took one long look at Jack and dropped his papers. Jack shook his hand and he slipped into their ranks.

A fair amount of boys gave up without a fight. Of course, none of the newsies who stayed in the Lodge were dumb enough to even bother trying. This was mostly because all the Lodge kids were unerringly loyal to her older brother, but she didn't doubt that it was also out of self-preservation for the any who still doubted. They'd much rather take on a bunch of scabbers with Jack than get soaked by him.

The next figure stepped down with narrowed eyes and Al sighed. Shifty _would_ choose to defy them. He'd never openly ousted Jack, but had never been afraid to voice his dislike for Al and hint at disapproval of Cowboy.

He stepped right up to Cowboy and looked him in the eye. He stood half a head taller than him, making him tower above most of the newsies seeing as Jack was one of the tallest. Al had to look up to scowl at him, seeing as barely reached his shoulders.

He turned and started to push past Racetrack and Mush, who shoved him away, hurling a couple of insults as they did. He tried to turn and push between Al and Blink. The latter grabbed his collar and shoved him back in without Al even having to move. Shifty turned to head back up the stairs, but two more guys got in his face, so he turned back to Jack. All the while David was trying to keep the crowd under control. He still wasn't sold on the violence bit.

"Jack, just don't-" David started to say, but Jack brushed him off and slammed his hand down on Shifty's papers without losing eye contact. The taller boy's papers hit the concrete with a _smack!_ and Cowboy's eyes begged him to try picking it up. Al tugged on her brother's sleeve. She could see by his deeper-than-usual scowl that it was personal. It always had been with Shifty- ever since he'd give her a black eye last year. She'd kept her brother from going after him with Specs, but he'd been waiting for the kid to make one wrong move ever since.

Jack looked at her as Shifty bent to retrieve his stuff, but she couldn't communicate anything because just then, both she and Jack were shoved into the people behind him. He ran past Itey and tried to make a break for it, but he didn't make it and Cowboy was in full swing now.

All hell broke loose as the newsies surged forward and some of them found rotten produce to throw. Suddenly, shreds of the papers were floating through the air in mass quantities. Some of the boys started tearing into the stacks on the wagon after overturning it.

Most of the opposing boys had been smart enough to make a run for it when the fighting broke out and the rest were quickly cleared out, so now it was only the strikers in the small courtyard. Al saw her brother making faces in the window above Weasel's counter, since they'd closed it off, and she rolled her eyes fondly before looking for Les. No doubt the kid was having the time of his life. She wasn't proved wrong when she found him tearing up newspapers with unrestrained glee.

David came up beside her as Morris and Oscar came running out with a vengeance. More than one of the kids decided to make the Delancey brothers their personal targets for tomatoes and stacks of newspapers until the boys scrambled off.

Al turned to David, "See it, it wasn't too bad." she nudged.

The other boy gave her a smile, slightly reluctant, but broad. "Yeah, I guess we did it."

Just then, the unmistakeable police whistles started blowing and their eyes went wide.

"Jack!" the two cried in unison. He wasn't far from them and turned before his grin diminished.

"The bulls!" he yelled over the uproar. "Hey, cheese it! Cheese it! It's the bulls!"

As one, the group went running. David jumped over a freshly tumbled stack to grab his brother's hand and shot off like a gun with the Kelly siblings beside him.

They were just out of the gates when Al caught sight of Denton, the reporter they'd met yesterday. He was looking past them with an apprehensive gaze that made foreboding boil in her gut. The police were closing in, thankfully not bothering to chase after kids they couldn't catch and heading straight for the courtyard they had just trashed.

"Crutchy!" Racetrack's voice pierced the air from just behind her. "Scram! Scram!"

Al couldn't help but turn around, the gnawing sense becoming overwhelming. She saw Crutchy stumble up from where he'd been sitting, tearing at papers, and stagger through the shredded paper that made it hard for him to walk. His smile instantly gone, he now wore something that looked dreadfully akin to fear and a sense of helplessness.

Without thinking it through, she sprinted back toward him, ignoring the tell-tale sound of Jack panicking and David calling out to her. She couldn't stop now. She went barrelling toward her longtime friend without hesitancy. She couldn't leave him behind.

She came to a skidding stop and grabbed his arm. She didn't have to look to know that the police were too close. They would have to find a different escape. The two whirled and Al felt her heart drop into her stomach as the Delancey brothers got a hold of them without giving them the slightest opportunity to run. Oscar kicked Crutchy's crutch out from under him and punched him in the face while Morris knocked the wind out of her and fisted the hair exposed at the back of her head left exposed even when her cap was on. She cried out as the two boys shoved them into an alleyway.

"We'll give ya to the police when we're done with the two of yas." Oscar sneered as Morris shoved her into a brick wall. "We got a bone to pick with ya brother, Ali."

How they managed to figure out her hated nickname, she didn't know. It was probably a lucky guess. All she knew was that she and Crutchy had to get out of here before Snyder showed up and took her out.

"We ain't gonna be your messengah boids, you trash." she hissed, elbowing Morris in the stomach, even as Crutchy got a well-aimed kick in with his bad leg.

Al knew it was hopeless. Crutchy had spirit, but he was no fighter and there was no way she could take on the Delancey brothers herself. Still, she wasn't going to just let them beat on her without doing anything about it. A Kelly never gave up without a fight, Jack always told her, even if they knew they were going to lose it. Suddenly she heard a set of running feet pounding the pavement and David came barreling for them. He tackled Oscar without hesitation, causing the Delancey boy to hit the ground face-first with a sickening thud. Al got another punch to the gut from Morris, but using the distraction to her advantage, countered it this time with a kick to the groin and a knockout punch to his temple.

"Thanks, Davy." Al said, relief evident in her voice. "Now let's get clear o' here before the bulls come lookin'." Sure enough, the sound of hooves cantering in their direction had all three moving as fast as they could. Crutchy might be a cripple, but we was also a newsie, which made him a fair match for nearly any runner if necessity called for it. His labored breathing came in huffs as he hurried after them, the tap of his crutch pounding rhythmically.

The three headed down a perpendicular alley that dead ended in both directions, making the way they'd come the only ground route exit.

"You're kidding, right?" Al threw up her hands in irritation.

"Over here!" David hissed. The other two followed his lead and the three crammed behind a high stack of crates left haphazardly leaning across the wall. The space behind it was cramped, but when Crutchy pulled a few loose crates to cover the opening, they were entirely concealed from view. Their heavy breathing filled the enclosed space, making Al want to choke from breathing everyone else's breath.

The horses clopped their way through the alley the three had just come through. Oscar's voice was they first they heard as he tried to brown-nose his way into their confidence. Knowing him, he was probably hoping he'd get a reward for trying to capture some of the newsie strikers.

"They ran this way." The cocky smirk was evident in his voice. "Those three are dangerous, sir. They need to be locked up."

Al grit her teeth, none of them daring to even shift so they could see what was going on. No, it was better to listen and stay still. It was crucial that they didn't screw up their escape now.

Multiple voices broke through as the clopping of horse hooves grew louder. Al felt sweat roll down her spine and tickle the small of her back. She was hunched awkwardly, her back leaning slightly against David, one knee touching her chin and the other rapidly falling asleep as it was curled under Crutchy's body. He was laying in an almost fetal position facing the crates as he held tightly to his upright crutch. She couldn't tell how David was situated, but she hoped he was more comfortable than she. Al made an effort not to lean too much on him, both for her benefit and his. It was too hot for how crowded the three were. As it was, she could feel David's silent breathing tickling the back of her neck.

She began to see spots and realized she'd stopped breathing. She sucked in a quiet, but greedy breath, shaking off the paranoia that the police had super hearing.

What would they do if they got taken to the Refuge? She tried not to think about it. Snyder would inevitably find out she was Jack's sister and use it against her and him. David's family wouldn't have anyone to support them, though they might be able to bail him out. Crutchy wouldn't be able to fight back against the abuse she knew the guards weren't shy to inflict.

"They aren't here." Someone growled. "They probably got up the fire escape and we barely missed them."

The sound of flesh hitting flesh resounded in the quiet alley. Someone had just been slapped. Oh how she hoped the recipient was Oscar.

"Next time, leave the law enforcement to us!" the commanding voice yelled, presumably at the boy. "You're the one to blame for their escape!"

Al couldn't help but grin. It was great to see- or hear- one of the Delancey brothers get hit without the ability to hit back.

_Maybe it'll knock some sense into that thick head of his._ she thought, then decided against it. She, her brother, and a couple other Manhattan newsies had been trying that tactic for years. They'd finally come to the conclusion that there was nothing in beetween that boy's ears to knock sense into.


	11. Worried

_**Author's Note: I'm glad y'all enjoyed the last chapter. I mean, who didn't watch the movie and scream "Someone go back for him!" when Crutchy was left behind? Besides, it seemed like something Al (and David) would do. So here's our next chapter, in which we have somewhat of an emotional breakdown or two. Haha.  
>A bazillion thanks to LucyofNarnia, kitcool, Narniafan96, and Rachel for their rock-awesome, butt-kickin' reviews. :P<br>**_

**Chapter 11- Worried**

_I wanna hold you high and steal your pain.  
><em>_'Cause I'm broken when I'm open  
><em>_And I don't feel like I am strong enough  
><em>_~Broken: Seether~_

The group of three waited at least a quarter of an hour after the horses and Oscar were gone before they tried to squeeze their way out of the tight space they'd been hiding in. Al tried not to gag with each breath. The odor of their sweat was sickening. She didn't doubt she smelt just as foul, but it wasn't bothering her any. Besides, sweaty boys always smell worse than sweaty girls. She just wanted out.

"Alright, Crutchy, let's beat it. You're killin' my leg." she hissed.

He responded with a quiet grunt as he uncurled himself and pushed the crates he'd place at their entrance carefully. None of them wanted the entire load to come crashing down on their slid out of the opening he'd made and Al crawled out after him, struggling to her feet. She shook her right leg impatiently, trying to ward off the numbness. She grimaced at the sensation of a thousand needles poking her calf as the blood started to flow regularly again.

"We should use the fire escape." David said, once he had crawled out and was standing on his feet again. "Are the two of you alright?"

Crutchy's ever-present grin plastered itself on his face. "They only got a few good hits in before you showed up." he turned to Al, his smile painfully sincere. "Thanks for comin' back fah me. You didn't have to to that."

She didn't know how to respond, so she rubbed the back of her neck and looked toward the fire escape David was already walking over to. He jumped up and pulled down the ladder to the first level.

"You coming?" he asked them.

They headed over and made their way to the roof as quickly as they could manage. It wasn't until they got to the top that they relaxed and slowed their pace. The trio quickly decided that they should walk along the rooftops until they were further away. The police were probably gone, but they didn't want to take any chances.

"Thanks for comin' after us, Dave. We woulda been in the Refuge by nightfall for sure if ya hadn't- and probably not in such good condition." Al grimaced at the thought. "What made ya come aftah me?"

"I could ask you the same question. You just took off without saying a word. Jack would've gone after you too, but I think Racetrack wouldn't let him. I heard 'im yellin' about how that was just what Snyder wanted."

"I'm glad 'e did."

The three walked on in relative silence, started up short conversations occasionally, but generally didn't bother with it. They had only been awake for what was likely two or three hours now and already the day had been more eventful than planned.

They hit the street near the Lodge about half an hour later and Racetrack ran toward them the moment he clapped his eyes on them.

"How'd you guys get out? Are you okay? Jack's been goin' crazy since we saw ya!" he ran a hand through his hair as all three simultaneously opened their mouths to respond. "Ya know what? Crutchy can tell me. Yous two had bettah go aftah Jack. He's headed to your house, Dave, so he can tell ya family what happened a'fore the bulls do. I nevah seen 'im this worried since you foist got to 'Hattan, Cap."

Al nodded as sisterly worry shot through her. Poor Jack! She wished she had gotten back sooner. She grabbed David's arm and started heading in the direction of his house. If Jack was half as worried as when they'd come from Brooklyn, they needed to get to him before he made himself sick.

"An' Al?" Racetrack called when they were already halfway down the street.

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're alright. Thanks fah lookin' aftah her, David."

She nodded, smiling brightly at her friend as David did the same, and they took off.

"What was Race referring to? When he was talkin' about how worried Jack was?" David asked when they had already made it through a couple of streets. He easily kept pace with Al's hurried steps.

Al sighed, "Ya know how we told ya we moved to Manhattan 'cause Jack decided it wasn't safe?"

He nodded.

"Well that's not exactly the whole truth." she paused as the memory came crawling back. David waited patiently, probably sensing that she needed to get collected first. "Jack was eleven an' I was ten. We'd been sellin' papes in Brooklyn for a little while and I mouthed off to Quick Fist MacIntosh, King o' Brooklyn at the time. You can imagine what 'appened next." She glanced over and saw his face pale before scrunching up with concern. "He hoit me pretty bad. Spot was second in command at the time an' I mighta died if 'e hadn't stepped in an' made him stop. Jack came back that night an' went ballistic. 'e beat up Quick Fist pretty bad, I hoid, and carried me to Manhattan. He met Race not long aftah, who took us to the Newsboys Lodge after they cut my hair to make me look like a boy. 'Course, I was out cold fah most of this. Kloppman helped me out and let us stay there free o' charge until I was comfortable enough for Jack to go sellin'. The whole thing was the last straw for Spot, who Jack says was already plannin' on overthrowin' the guy anyway. Alot o' the Brooklyn boys blame me 'n' Jack for the newsie war that came with Spot's rise to powah. An' believe me, newsie wars- they ain't pretty."

"Wow." was all David could say. They turned a corner and continued on, Al wondering if she'd said too much. She knew Jack didn't like to talk about the past at all, but she felt like David should know. If she didn't tell him, he would only keep pestering her until he found out, anyway.

"So that's why he's so sweet on ya?" he asked finally.

"Huh?"

"Spot. Is that why he's so sweet on ya? 'Cause of what Quick Fist did to you?" David clarified softly.

"He's sweet on me 'cause I wasn't intimidated by someone I knew could kill me without much of an effort and 'cause I'm still not one to back down." she rolled her eyes. "No one talked back to MacIntosh- not even the boys who were biggah than 'im. I'm a goil and I had backbone. It's the same when Spot yells at me. It don't scare me an' he likes that fah some reason. That _is_ why he was mad about Red and his pals jumpin' us, though. He's made it clear that we's is allies and told 'is boys they can't lay a hand on us without his approval. Even though Spot's a big-headed cocky idiot, he's alright sometimes."

"Makes sense." David conceded as they stopped in front of his apartment building. The two hurried inside and practically ran up the stairs, skipping steps. David went through the door first, Al close behind him. Everyone- Les, Mrs. Jacobs, Mr. Jacobs, Sarah, and Jack- were sitting at the table, listening intently to the story unfolding before them.

"So Al went back for 'im without sayin' a woid. Davy didn't even hesitate. He just toined around and ran aftah her. I woulda gone too, but Race an' Skittery wouldn't let me." He put his face in his hands and spoke, voice just barely cracking with emotion. "The bulls will probably come here latah to let ya know, but I wanted to tell ya firsthand. If we're lucky, they'll let ya bail Davy." He didn't look up.

"What about Al?" Sarah asked, tears brimming in her eyes.

"They'll prolly keep her in the Refuge." he sounded deflated and his shoulders hunched in defeat. "The warden'll recognize her an' try to use 'er to catch me."

"Good thing they didn't catch us then." David broke in awkwardly. All eyes shot up to the two teens standing in the doorway.

"David!" Les practically shrieked.

"Oh, David! You're alright!" That was Mrs. Jacobs, already clambering out of her seat.

Jack had Al's face in his hands before she even had time to register the fact that he'd stood up.

"Are you okay? I saw Morris grab ya. Did 'e hurt you?" he spat rapidfire.

"No, no. I'm fine. Morris only got two hits in before David showed up." she answered, almost scared by the intensity in her brother's eyes. They brimmed with unshed tears.

"Lemme see."

Normally, she would have argued with him, telling him that she was fine and he needed to stop worrying so much; but he wasn't in a normal state of mind and she wanted to calm him. Glancing at the Jacobs awkwardly, she sighed and pulled up her shirt high enough to reveal the mottled purple bruise just beneath where her ribs met.

She heard Sarah and Mrs. Jacobs suck in a breath and quickly pulled her shirt back into place, realizing they were all watching her now.

"Does it hurt?" Les asked.

Al didn't get the chance to answer as Jack wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into himself as if he was scared she wasn't actually there. His face pressed into her shoulder and she relaxed against him, hugging him back, silently letting him know she wasn't going anywhere.

"All I could think about was you lyin' on my bunk all bloody and banged up after Quick Fists hoit ya." Hold up. Was he shaking? "You was so little and it was my fault. It was my fault. An' if they took ya to the Refuge- they woulda hoit ya real bad. An' I wouldn'ta been there to protect ya." He sounded lost, almost broken, and it terrified her.

"It wasn't ya fault." Al responded firmly, feeling sick. "And don't you ever think that again. I'm right here and I'm not goin' nowhere."

They stood that way for an indefinite amount of time before Jack let go, taking a shaky breath. He sniffed and wiped at his eyes, trying to compose himself. She didn't think he had cried, but he'd looked like he'd come pretty close.

"Why don't you two sit down while I put lunch together." Mrs. Jacobs said sweetly. Jack nodded and walked over to the couch without even looking her way.

"Thank ya much, ma'am." Al said, still shaken by her sibling's display of emotion.

Mrs. Jacobs smiled and gave her a gentle hug, pecking her forehead with a motherly kiss. "Anytime, dear."

Sarah gave her a hug next and all four kids went to sit down with Jack, who was uncharacteristically silent.

"I'm glad you're okay." Sarah told her when they were seated. "David told me about yesterday and then today happens. It must be rough."

"Yeah, the stakes are higher than usual lately." Al answered, rubbing her left temple with her finger while looking sidelong at her brother. "But life's like that sometimes."

"How did you get away?" Les asked.

"I wouldn't 'ave been able to if it weren't for your bruddah here." she smiled at David, who just shrugged and tugged at his ear. Les beamed at his older brother. She went on to tell them the story, leaving out Oscar's comment about working them over to get back at Jack. She didn't want her brother to pile any more blame on himself, especially not because of those creeps.

"Thanks fah takin' care o' my sistah, Dave." Jack laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You don't know how much it means to me."

"I have a feeling I do." David responded sincerely.

"So what's gonna happen now?" Sarah asked.

"We do it again." Al answered. "Today worked out pretty well. We got our message across."

"They'll be expecting us." David warned.

"Then we'll have to be ready for anything." she shrugged.

Mrs. Jacobs came in at that point with sandwiches for everyone. The family and their two guests ate in silence at first, but Jack finally seemed to come to himself. He and Sarah deep in conversation when Al stood up to go put her plate up. David and his parents were talking in the other room. She didn't mean to eavesdrop, but their voices carried over to her.

"I'm fine, Mom. Oscar didn't even see me coming. He didn't get to lay a punch on me."

"You just worry me. I'm just not sure what I think about this new job of yours." she pleaded. Al dried her hands off on towel and scooted closer to the door, trying to look like she was busy and not openly listening in.

"What do you want me to do, Mom? Quit being a newsie?" his voice dropped a level in cold anger.

"I don't know! Yesterday you come home hurt because you got in a fight in Brooklyn and today Jack comes in to tell me you've been arrested! How am I supposed to feel?"

Al felt dread form in her heart. He couldn't leave them now. He was their friend. They needed him!

"You're supposed to trust that I know what I'm doing. It's the right thing."

"You could get hurt- worse than a split lip and bloody knuckles. You could get killed. Is it worth that to you?"

"If I hadn't been there for Al and Crutchy today, they would've been hurt- worse than a split lip and bloody knuckles. They were gonna do some serious damage. . . Yeah, it's worth it to me if it keeps my friends safe."

"And that's admirable, son." Mr. Jacobs was talking now, sounding a little uneasy. "Your mother and I just want you to be careful. This is a dangerous city and your friends. . . they're nice, but trouble seems to follow them."

There was a long silence and Al felt tears prick her eyes. She knew they were right, but it still hurt to hear it. They didn't ask for trouble. Okay, sometimes Jack did. But for the most part, it was inevitable. It was life.

"What are you trying to say?" David's growled dangerously. She was surprised. It was a different side of David than any she'd seen yet.

"Maybe you should spend a little time with some other friends. What about your old friends from school? You should call them up." his mother suggested.

"How could you say that?" David exploded and Al actually jumped. "Jack and Al are the best friends I've ever had and I've only known them for a few days! They are worth every punch I take for being with them. They're worth the danger. You don't know what they've been through! You don't know them at all. Didn't you see the look in Jack's eyes when he saw that Al was okay? Did you hear what he said? _I _don't even know their whole story, but I know it ain't a pretty one. You think I'm gonna just gonna walk away when Jack gets ganged up on by a bunch of guys who hate him? You think I'm just gonna stand there while Al gets more bruises like that one on her stomach or on her eye every day?" He paused. "I expected more from you." he said, almost sadly.

"What happened to the little boy I didn't have to worry about?" his mother asked quietly.

"He grew up."

The door flew open and Al froze as she found herself face to face with David, his jaw clenched and eyes fiery. He paused for a moment, then went past her, slamming the door to the apartment as he left. Al found four pairs of eyes staring at her. Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs looked pale at realizing she had overheard their conversation. Sarah and Jack were looking at her with concern, wondering if she knew what just happened. Only Les was blissfully unaware as he punched the pillow in the living room.

"Take that, Delancey!" he cried.

Al rubbed the back of her neck and hurried to the door David had just gone out through. "I'm gonna go talk to him." she told the other two teenagers quietly. They nodded uncertainly and she followed her friend.


	12. Rooftop Discussions

_**Author's Note: So I just got the Newsies DVD a day or two ago. I've had to watch it on YouTube before now. Did anyone notice that though Christian Bale and David Moscow are the stars of this film, they name Robert Duvall (Pulitzer) and Ann-Margaret (Medda) as the stars. SAY WHAT NOW? Medda was only in the show for 5 minutes tops! -_- And Pulitzer? Can anyone actually call him the star of this movie?  
>Also, I found out through the Behind the Scenes that about 1 out of every 15 newsies was a girl. I didn't know that before. :P<br>**__**Anyway, y'all are awesome for reading my story and these people are even MORE awesome for leaving their beautiful reviews: Narniafan96, Austra, bethyhope, mysterygirl, Ealasaid Una, and Rachel!**_

**Chapter 12- Rooftop Discussions**

Al found David on the roof a few minutes later, leaning over the tall edge of the ceiling, fists clenched as he looked over Manhattan with a grim visage. She didn't know what to say, so she just stood there, watching him watch New York. The sun sat lazily in the middle of the sky and the the breeze whipped the drying laundry around.

His whole body was tense and she suddenly realized she didn't know what to say. She wanted to apologize for eavesdropping, but for some reason she was hesitant. Maybe she should just let him think. She started to turn away.

"You got a smoke?"

Al's eyebrows knitted together as she walked over to him. He hadn't turned around yet, he just kept staring over the tops of the buildings.

"I didn't think you smoked."

"I don't most of the time."

Apparently, David was one of those emotional smokers. The thought made her want to chuckle, but she resisted the urge. It seemed Al was learning something new about him every few minutes. Then again, that shouldn't be so surprising since she'd only met him the day before yesterday.

_Has it really only been three days?_ she wondered.

Shrugging, she pulled one out of her pocket and handed it to him before fishing out a match and giving him that too. He swiped it across the concrete and lit the cigarette before flicking the match over the side. He watched it fall.

"Look, I'm sorry for eavesdroppin'-"

"It's fine," he cut her off brusquely.

"No, seriously. It's a bad habit an' I was wrong to-"

"I said it's fine."

Al conceded and put a fist under her chin with a huff. Her emotions were raw from the long day and she was irritated that he wasn't going to let her apologize, but she didn't want to start fighting with him over nothing, so she kept her mouth shut. He obviously wasn't ready to talk and that was fine with her. His emotions had been rubbed raw too and he needed to think. It had already been quite a long day.

She considered going back down to Sarah and Jack and leaving David here to have his alone time. Then again, he wouldn't have engaged her by asking for a cigarette if he didn't want her there. So instead of leaving, she slid down and sat with her back to the roof's edge and her front facing the roof. She might as well get some thinking done while she was up here.

She couldn't help wondering what was going on in that head of his. She hadn't the foggiest idea. He was angry, Al knew that much, and she was flattered by David's defense of both she and her brother. She leaned her head back against the brick, lifting her face to the sun, and closed her eyes.

Everything in her life felt complicated right now. The strike had her on edge as she worried about herself and the boys. How long would it last? If it went longer than two weeks. . . they wouldn't even have the money even to give up and buy the papers. But they had cast their lots and they couldn't turn back now. Besides, the newsies were a clever, though unlearned, bunch. They would figure something out. They were New Yorkers. And most importantly, they were survivors.

Jack and Al weren't the only ones with bad pasts. Racetrack still had triangular iron marks on the undersides of his arms from where his mother used to burn him for disobeying when he was only five. Skittery had scars on his back from being beaten with the buckle of a belt the first time he ran away and his dad caught him. He got his name from how skittish he'd been when he came to the Lodge. He had been thirteen at the time and Al remembered it well. The list went on, making Al sick to her stomach. Crutchy, Boots, Blink, even little Runner.

It was disgusting how much evil could be in a person. What kind of person attacked a defenseless child or an innocent bystander? Who got their kicks out of watching little boys and girls cry because they were so terrified?

She had a flashback to the day Quick Fists nearly pummelled her into oblivion. Then she remembered when Jack was only seven and their dad had broken a beer bottle over the boy's head. She had dragged his unconscious body into the closet and hid there, sobbing as his blood colored her skirt red. She'd received a beating for that too- dirtying her skirt. She could still feel her father's boot in her stomach and how her lungs had screamed for air when he strangled her.

She opened her eyes, not wanting to see what her mind's eye showed her any longer and suppressed a sob. She was surprised to see David studying her, cigarette in his mouth, his brow dipped in concern.

He slid down next to her and passed her the cigarette. She took it thankfully and breathed in the harsh tobacco. She blew the plume of smoke slowly, letting the action calm her.

"You okay?" she asked before taking another drag.

"Are you?"

"I asked foist," she smirked, handing it back. He smiled and looked down at the white cylinder pinched between his fingers.

"How much did you hear?" he asked softly.

"Everythin' aftah, 'I'm fine, Mom'," she answered truthfully.

He cringed, sucked at the ever-shortening stick of tobacco, and closed his eyes. "I was hoping you hadn't heard that much."

"Sorry," she shrugged. When he didn't say anything, she continued. "What you said 'bout Jack an' me in there? It was real sweet," she offered.

He looked at her seriously, "I meant every word."

"I could tell." She paused, accepting the cigarette back. "You gonna leave the newsies?"

"No! Of course not!" he raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said you heard everything?"

"I did. I just wanted to make sure." For some reason it made her feel better- hearing it directly from him instead of through the door. She didn't want to lose her new friend just as soon as she had found him.

"I just don't understand my parents sometimes," he groused, hitting the top of his knee with a fist. "They tell me I should help people. They teach me that no one deserves to be bullied or abused. Then when I try to do something about it, they get upset? Am I only supposed to do good until it gets hard? I'm not a quitter; I refuse to be."

"You're not a quittah," Al affirmed. She turned and sat cross-legged so she could face him and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. "I think ya parents are just worried. They ain't used to the newsie life an' it's hard for 'em to see ya hurt. I remembah the foist time I got a black eye. Jack would hardly let me go to the bathroom on my own for two weeks."

David laughed, "How old were you?"

"Six."

Instead of laughing, he cringed. "How did ya get it?"

Her mother had slammed her head into the table when Al had refused to do the dishes, but she wasn't about to tell him that.

"Mouthin' off to someone biggah than me," she chuckled, trying to play it off. If he asked for more information than that, she was going to have to lie about it and, for some reason, the idea bothered her.

"So you've always been this stubborn?" he asked as she took one last drag and dropped the cigarette butt next to her.

"It's a family trait," she laughed.

They were silent for a few moments as they watched two sparrows hop around a few feet from them. It was almost like a dance.

"Why do they call you Cap?" David asked after a few minutes.

She merely rolled her eyes and patted the cap on her head. "Think about it."

"Because you're always wearing a cap," he grinned, catching it immediately.

"Because I'm always wearing a cap," she agreed with a broad smile.

Another lull in conversation.

"Does it bother you that you have to act like a boy all the time?"

"Why do you keep askin' all these questions?"

"It's a family trait," he mimicked her earlier answer. It made her think about his siblings. That was a very true statement, whether he meant it to be or not. "Now answer it."

"It doesn't mattah if I like it or not. I gotta do it."

"That's not what I asked." David gave her a pointed look.

Al huffed and thought about the question. She went back to two nights ago when David had introduced she and Jack to Sarah. Jack had been instantly smitten. She'd never experienced anything like that. Every guy automatically thought she was just a pretty boy.

_You are a real goil. Don't ever let anyone say otherwise. You're just as much a goil as Sarah up there,_ Jack had told her.

"Yeah, sometimes," she responded. "I mean, for one thing it'd be easier than pretendin' to be someone else. Maybe I'd loin to sleep on top o' my pillow instead o' under it and get the chance to let my hair down sometimes. Literally." He laughed and she smiled in resonse. "It'd be nice to act like a real goil every once in a while. Get to wear a skoit if I wanted to. Even get treated like one, ya know? An'-" Al stopped. She had been getting ahead of herself. She wasn't used to getting to talk about this and her mind had been running faster than her mouth.

"And what?" David prodded.

"It's nothin'," she dodged.

"Come on. Tell me!" he pleaded, looking like she'd piqued his interest. She considered it for a a few seconds, then decided it wouldn't do any harm.

"Oh, alright," she frowned. "But you'd bettah not laugh!"

"I won't," he promised seriously.

"It's just. . . how am I evah gonna find somebody who likes me as more'n just a friend? An' if'n I do, what could we do about it? We wouldn't even be able to act like it, 'cause people'd start askin' questions." She looked away and bit her lower lip. "So, yeah, I'd like that. I'd even like for someone to think that I'm pretty, I guess."

"I think you're pretty." He tugged at his ear.

Al was caught off-guard. She really hoped she hadn't actually just jumped at the confession, but she suspected she had. She also suspected that her face was saying she didn't believe him, because that's what her head was saying.

"You are pretty, Al. I'm serious," he told her and she saw the sincerity in his eyes. "An' I'm not the only one who sees it, so don't worry about it. You'll find someone, you'll figure out how to make it work, and they'll be lucky to have you."

Al was stunned into silence. No one had ever said anything like that to her before, except _maybe_ Jack. She felt all warm inside as she just stared at David. She didn't have anything to say and even if she did- she wasn't sure her mouth was working right now.

"Al? You up there? We gotta get back to the Lodge already!" Jack's voice yelled from the direction of the fire escape. David stood and helped Al to her feet.

"Thanks for coming up here and helping me calm down," he said. "An' I'm sorry about my parents."

"It's no big deal," she shrugged it off. "An' thanks to you to. For listenin' to me. . . an' for what ya said. It means alot to me."

She quickly planted a kiss on his cheek and hurried off. "See ya tomorrow, Dave!" she called over her shoulder.

"Bye."

She stomped down the fire escape, fighting off the blush she knew was spreading warmth across her cheeks. She reached her brother a few seconds later.

"Did ya kiss 'im again?" Jack teased as they headed down into the street.

"No," she said quickly. _Too quickly,_ she realized with a sinking feeling.

"You did!" Jack laughed uproarously. "I was just kiddin', but ya kissed Davy again! What'd 'e give you this time? Two hats?"

"Shut up," she growled, punching him in the shoulder for good measure.


	13. Unexpected

_**Author's Note: I never had the desire to go to New York City before I saw the Newsies, but ever since I watched it, I've had an unhealthy obsession with it. Haha. You can imagine my elation, then, when I walked into the English bookstore here and found an entire table dedicated to books set in Brooklyn. :) It made my day that much brighter.  
>Many thanks to the oh-so-beastly, slingshot-wielding (maybe) reviewers who make putting these chapters up in a timely fashion worthwhile. These awesome people are beachchick836, LucyofNarnia, Narniafan96, and Austra. You have those four to thank for this chapter being posted now! :) <strong>_

**Chapter 13- Unexpected**

_Tonight we're takin' names  
><em>_'Cause we don't mess around  
><em>_This place about to blow  
><em>_~Blow: Ke$ha~_

The next morning, the Manhattan newsies were ready. Like an army, they stood before the gates prepared for victory. The wagon that brought the newspapers was already inside, stocking up Weasel's courtyard as usual. Newsies amassed around the entrance and watched, but the older kids were the only ones who had the good sense to be anxious.

Al stretched, trying to dispel the last bits of sleep from her body. After she and Jack had left David's house last night, her brother had teased her mercilessly until they reached the Lodge. At least, once he had been certain that Walkin' Mouth hadn't made any moves on her. She rolled her eyes as she remembered it now. She'd assured him that everything was platonic and he was persuaded without much effort, yet he still thought the kiss on the cheek was hilarious.

She didn't tell Jack what the fight with his parents had been about, though. She didn't want him getting upset about something she wasn't supposed to hear in the first place. She lied and told him she hadn't heard it; she had just seen him storm out and wanted to help her friend. Jack was skeptical, but dropped it when she brought up the fact that David smoked when he was upset. He had been both intrigued and amused at the fact.

Everyone was there early. Jack had been concerned that they would try to get the traitors to buy their papers early and get out of there before the circulation bell rang. He really didn't want to send out the kids in groups to stop newsies all over Manhattan. They needed to stop it here if they were going to get the results they needed. His prediction had been right. Their were already around twenty or so newsies inside the main gates.

She moved away from where Kid Blink and Mush were discussing ideas about trying to stop the carriage. Maybe then they could force some of the other boroughs to join by the sheer fact that the papers didn't get delivered to them. They knew for a fact that Brooklyn was it's next stop.

David ran up and skidded to a stop beside her, his breathing heavy. "Sorry I'm late," he rasped.

"It's fine. Nothin's happened yet," she informed him. "Where's Les?"

"That's why I'm late. Momma wanted him at home today. She's worried," he answered as the two headed over to the other boys.

"Did you and ya parents woik things out?"

"Yeah." He tugged at his ear and pinched his lips together. "You were right, actually. They said they were just worried and didn't mean what they said- especially about you an' Jack. They like ya a lot."

Al smiled, feeling more at ease. It had upset her that the only adults she'd ever gotten semi-close to, besides Medda and sort of Kloppman, had rejected her so quickly. Especially when they were good people like the Jacobs.

"Okay, we'll try it," Jack was saying as they approached the group again. "But when I say 'Scram' we're out. The line breaks and we get outta the way. I don't want any o' my boys getting squashed 'cause o' this."

"Fine by me," Blink answered.

"A'right. This is the ordah. It's gonna be me, Walkin' Mouth, Blink, Mush. . ." He continued on and came out with two groups of guys who were going to try to blockade the carriage with their bodies. They made three lines and crouched together with their arms interlocked. Al stood nearby with the rest of the newsies. They lined up on either side of the boys to watch what would happen, each of them desperately hoping this would work. Most of the Lodge boys were in the line, seeing as they were the ones Jack trusted most and knew wouldn't hesitate to follow his orders.

"Are you sure about this, Jack?" Al called, terrified of seeing her brother and closest friends trampled. He'd chosen to leave her on the side in case things went awry and she hadn't argued. The idea of horse hooves pounding on her stomach didn't appeal to her.

"We're about to find out, Cap!" he called back.

It was then that the gates swung inward and the carriage and it's horses came barreling out. When it was clear that they weren't gonna defect, Jack called the order to break ranks. They were out of the way just in time to keep from becoming a part of the pavement.

The entire group of newsies went crazy, screaming insults as it rode off. Then, at Jack's direction, they formed a semi-circle around the entrance to the Distribution Center's courtyard. Al, Racetrack, David, and Jack stood directly opposite. They stared down the few Manhattan newsies that dared defy the rest.

Al wondered why these kids were so intent on trying to thwart them. She wondered how many of them were just bad kids who wanted nothing more than to undermine Jack's authority with the others. Jack may not be the king of Manhattan the way Spot was king of his newsies, but he was undoubtedly their leader. Jack had spent the last two years at their head, taking down any who tried to challenge him. The newsies had benefitted from his leadership and most were glad he was there. Still, there were always those who would want the power for themselves. Al had spent those years praying it wouldn't instigate the start of another newsie war. Those things weren't pretty and there would be a good chance of one of her friends ending up face down in the East River. Yes, they often got that bad.

No, Jack didn't keep a tight leash on his newsies. He was loyal and fair with the power he'd aquired and the Lodge boys helped him keep the peace among the rest. It wasn't unless something like this happened that he had to knock them back in their places and remind them who the boss was here. She couldn't help but wonder sometimes if it wouldn't be easier Spot's way. Not a single Brooklynite would try to go against what their 'king' decided. They were a well-trained army and new better than trying to defy whoever was in power. Then again, that just made all of his opponents sneakier. They had to turn the tides in their favor before they could ever try something.

Al shook her head. No, she would always prefer to see her brother as the head of Manhattan, rather than the king. He wouldn't overstep his bounds and she admired him for it. He treated the rest of the newsies like friends and equals and that's why so many were loyal to him. If someone tried to take his place, most of them wouldn't switch sides even if their life depended on it.

They were a family. Al prayed that would never change.

"C'mon, ya graftahs! Cross the line!" Racetrack goaded, drawing Al back from the recesses of her mind.

"Alright. Everyone remain calm." David tried to keep the showdown peaceful. Al gave him a funny look, but he almost made a point of ignoring her.

Silence pervaded the showdown for a few tense moments, each side waiting for the other to make a move. She could see Jack practically itching to soak the traitors, but he held back. If they could get a few more recruits, it would make the task much easier, not to mention the fact that it would make David happier the longer they forewent violence.

Al started to relax. Maybe they wouldn't have to fight today. I mean, it's not like these guys were going to be able to push past a group so much bigger than themselves. If they kept them at bay long enough, it could solve the feud peacefully. She started to see David's point. Maybe violence wouldn't be so necessary.

"Whatsa mattah, Cowboy?" someone called from within the group they faced. Al decided his voice carried a decidedly slinky element. "You afraid to get ya hands doity?"

Jack just smirked and crossed his arms. They would have to do better than that to get to him and everyone knew it.

"Or are ya scared someone'll rough up that sistah o' yours?" another called. That worked a little better. She saw Jack tense and his jaw clench as he grit his teeth. The smirk was instantly gone and replaced with a thin line where his lips were pressed together. A couple of the loyal newsies started whispering amongst themelves- clearly the ones who weren't as close to Jack and Al.

"Cowboy an' Cap has a sistah?"

"What's 'e talkin' about?"

"They's just makin' stuff up now."

"What a couple o' idiots."

"No, theys tryin' to make funna Cap by callin' 'im a goil."

Racetrack moved closer to her, a frown stamped decidedly on his face now.

"Maybe 'e's too scared Davy's gonna get 'imself hoit," someone from the other side laughed.

Al frowned. It was like they were trying to get the stuffing beaten out of them. David was whispering to Jack, undoubtedly trying to calm him down, ignoring the barbs thrown in their direction. She reached across and patted her brother on the back, trying to show him it wasn't a big deal. But her brow dipped as she studied the smirking group before them. Why weren't they nervous? Why were they provoking an attack? The kids in the front were gripping their papers like shields but the rest looked overly confident. What was going on here?

That was when Shifty's unmistakeably irritating voice pierced the air. "She ain't gonna be able to walk when I'm done with 'er, Jacky-boy."

The suggestive tone of voice was not lost on Al and she actually took a step back in reaction to it. The boys around her, however, turned murderous. Even David's head had whipped to face them faster than she thought possible.

With a roar of pure rage, Jack took off like a shot. The others were right behind him without a moment's hesitation, the Lodge boys beyond furious, and the others just ready for a good fight. Al surged forward with them, not eager to be trampled, and now furious that Shifty had made such a threat. He had better hope she didn't reach him, because if she did, she was going to give him the beating of a lifetime.

Their opposition retreated to the back of the courtyard immediately and started banging on the huge green double doors that were usually closed, just next to Weasel's counter. Al felt her stomach sink with foreboding.

The doors swung open to reveal a mass of thugs, all armed with chains and clubs. Al blanched and had to swallow the bile that rose up in her mouth at the sight. The entire group of strikers just froze in shock. This was a turn of the tides none of them saw coming. The bulls they had expected. These guys? Not so much. Suddenly, the traitors' cockiness made sense.

"Jack?" Racetrack called, eyes wide.

The thugs charged them just as Jack yelled, "Beat it!", but those in the front didn't get much time to run. They tried to scatter when a roar of panic rolled through the Manhattan newsies. Al pivoted just in time to see the gates close, locking them in. From the platform, she could see Denton with a camera over his shoulder trying to get one of the bulls to help them, but to no avail. He looked terrified as he locked eyes with her.

Suddenly, Al was jerked by her arm, just in time to avoid a chain as it whizzed past her ear.

"Get ya head straight, Al, or you're gonna lose it!" Skittery yelled over the ruckus and let go of her, jumping into the fray himself.

Al spun around and ducked under another swing from the man, kicking her leg out and sweeping it under him. He landed on his back and she kicked him once before scanning the crowd for her brother. She found him next to David as they dodged Morris, who had them backed against a wall as he swung his own chain at them. She fought her way toward them, stopping once long enough to kick a guy in the back of the head who was standing next to the platform before he could bring his club down on the younger newsie cowering beneath him. The guy turned around with a roar and she kicked him in the face before he could strike her in return. He fell backward and the younger newsie was on him before she could even blink.

Al's knuckles were already starting to bleed when she jumped off the platform and tackled Morris from behind seconds after he got a good strike on Jack's ribs. Morris and Al hit the ground, with him taking the full impact. Then she stood over him before turning him over and grabbed him by the collar, getting right in his face. "You're gonna regret messin' with my bruddah!" she growled. She delivered two strong punches to the face and he was out cold.

"You alright, Jack?" she asked, dropping Morris and spinning around to face a few more thugs. The three were already being converged on again.

"M'fine," he answered, throwing a punch at the guy in front of them.

Al wheezed as she took a hit to the ribs with a club. She tried to dodge his second swing, but failed. The sound of bone snapping was unmistakeable and she bit her lip to avoid screaming as she stumbled backward, trying not to fall completely. Her opponent tried to bring a third swing down on her shoulder, but she spun out of the way and punched him in the face, knocking his dirty sneer right off it. It wasn't a great hit, seeing as she was still trying to breathe normally, but it was good enough to get him stumbling into another newsie who finished him off for her.

"Brooklyn!" Mush's voice carried over the crowd, brimming with hope.

Al looked up just in time to see Spot and his boys pulling out their slingshots and felt a wave of relief wash over her. Her attention was turned away, though, as she felt a smaller body slam into her middle. Runner slid down her pant leg and landed at her feet, the blood from a gash over his right eye staining her pants. He was only nine years old, yet his dirty blonde hair was caked with blood and his eye was already blackening from a bruise.

Disgusted, Al couldn't take it anymore. She turned and heaved onto the pavement beside herself and the now unconscious boy, tears pricking her eyes as her ribs screamed with pain. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and turned back, feeling herself turn feral. She lunged at the guy who was clearly responsible for hurting the young boy, his chain swinging haphazardly. She let it wrap around her arm and tugged it out of his hand before punching him in the face and kicking him in the groin. She dropped the chain as he doubled over. She then grabbed his hair and shoved his face into her raised knee.

She felt rather than saw his nose break, and let him fall to the ground in pain. She was caught off guard, though, as someone grabbed her by the hair. She fairly shrieked as she was pulled off her feet and pinned against the wall seconds later, a hand on her neck blocking her air supply as her feet dangled only inches from the ground.

She grit her teeth and clawed at the arm in front of her even as it's owner sneered happily at her. She spat in his face and he growled, pushing harder and making her vision go fuzzy. She did manage to see Spot ziplining over them and knocking over a group of thugs beating on Dutchy as he landed.

"Get your dirty hands offa her!" she heard David growl dangerously.

Suddenly, a club was splintering across the man's ugly head and his hand released her as he collapsed. Al's feet hit the ground and she crumbled.

She blacked out and must have woken up only a few seconds later, because David crouching down above her, worriedly pushing her hair out of her face. She coughed, then groaned from the pain in both her neck and her middle.

"How bad are you hurt?" his face was etched with concern.

"Just some bruises and a broken rib or two. Can ya help me up befah someone gets ya with your back turned?" He pulled her up and they turned just in time to see that the gates had been opened and a mass of Brooklyn newsies surged into the crowd, led by Spot. They pushed the thugs back into the double doors they'd arrived from.

The newsies went crazy and a roar louder than Al thought she'd ever heard before boomed through the air. She whooped with them, laughing as the glee threatened to overwhelm her. For a moment there, she thought that they were all done for- that the only sign of the strike in the paper was going to be the announcement of mass murder in the World Distribution Center Courtyard.

David had his arm under her, supporting her as he lead her to where Jack and the other Lodge boys were jumping around and congratulating each other. They were all much more worse for the wear, but they beamed through the bruises and the pain, just as she and David did.

"Al! David! We did it!" Jack could hardly contain himself as the two found themselves in the middle of the throng. "We beat 'em!" He held up a newspaper and ripped it down the middle.

"Jack! Boys! Freeze!" Denton called over the hubbub.

They all turned and smiled broadly, half of them in weird positions and fighting to be in front of each other as the camera flashed.


	14. Triage

_**Author's Note: Arg, as much as I like the material in my English and Sociology classes, nothing makes anything more irritating than the fact that it's homework. Ugh. Anyway, now that I've finally completed most of it, I can put up a new chapter! :) This one covers the aftermath of the newsies getting attacked by the thugs. Woot.  
><strong>__**I now bestow virtual thank you cookies upon Austra, Narniafan96, Ealasaid Una, Rachel, LucyofNarnia, and kitcool for their rockin' reviews of awesomeness. Haha. **_

**Chapter 14- Triage**

_"I need an ambulance  
><em>_I took, I took the worst of a blow  
><em>_Send me a redeemer  
><em>_Let me know if I'm gonna be alright  
><em>_Am I gonna be alright?"  
><em>_~Ambulance: Eisley~_

It wasn't long after the picture was taken that the newsies started to sober up. These boys had grown up on the streets and they were used to fighting and bloodshed. They knew every victory came at a price. Sometimes those prices were heavy.

Al found herself wanting to kiss Mrs. Jacobs' feet for not sending Les this morning.

Jack and Spot immediately quieted the boys and set out a plan for taking care of their newsies.

Most of the boys couldn't afford legitimate medical care. That was entirely out of the question. For the ones who had families that could, Jack had some of his healthy boys take home. With the rest, he had the healthier carry the unconscious and those who couldn't walk on their own back to the Lodge. It was the only safe place they had for the job.

Spot sent his boys home. They were mostly unharmed and those who needed medical attention were well enough to wait for Brooklyn, where their own newsies could patch them up. He, however, stayed. He said he needed to sit down with Jack after everything settled down.

Denton looked almost awed as the boys got to work immediately.

Jack turned to his sister as he waited for one of his younger boys to give a head count on how many would need attention.

"You alright, Al? Ya lookin' pretty banged up," he said, concerned as he looked over her with a wary eye.

"I'll survive. We need to get movin'. Some o' those boys is hoit pretty bad."

He nodded and his boy came back to let him know that there were at least fourteen that had to be carried and another ten that were having to be assisted in order to walk, not counting Al who was now moving on her own.

Jack nodded and they took off. Jack, Spot, David, and Al were at the front of the procession that streamed behind them. Jack had sent another two boys, who had come out with only a few bruises, ahead to put out cots, or even lay out some of the Lodge boys' blankets for the extra kids.

Denton came up beside them, brow dipped in worry as he matched their stride.

"Who are you an' whattaya want?" Spot questioned, scowl evident.

"Hey Denton," David greeted, showing the Brooklyn leader the man was clearly a friend. "Ya need something?"

"Who's going to take care of these boys?"

"We are," Jack answered, giving him a pointed look and not offering up any more information than that.

"Look, I'm going to go see if I can get a doctor friend of mine to take a look at your boys for free. Are you okay with that?" he asked, looking to the Manhattan newsies leader for a moment.

"What's the catch?"

Denton almost looked hurt. "There isn't one. I want to help. I don't know if he'll be able to come, but I can't sit by when some of you are hurt this badly. I wanted to get your approval first, before I brought him to the Newsboys Lodge."

Al gave him an appreciative look and could tell he meant every word. She was surprised, but pleasantly, that he had asked for Jack's permission first. He was beginning to understand how the newsies worked. "I'm gonna need help," was all she said, looking up to her brother.

"Yeah, that'd be a big 'elp," Jack conceded with a slight sigh.

They newsies, sans Denton, reached the Lodge only moments later. Jack immediately pulled his sister into the washroom and closed the door, instructing David to guard it for a moment and make sure the newsies triaged the patients. The other boy mentioned that Sarah had minimal medical training, but might be able to help some. Jack told him to send a runner to their house and David was more than happy to oblige.

Al grimaced as she pulled her shirt up to her bra's waistband (the only article of female clothing Al owned) and revealed her ribs. She had never been one to bruise very quickly. In fact, her bruises generally looked worse the day after a fight, but her left side was already a sickening red-purple color and getting darker by the second. Jack apologized before starting to feel her ribs for breaks.

"What happened here?" Jack questioned, not looking up. Al's face was contorting in pain as he provoked the bruise and it was a moment before she trusted herself to speak.

"Club got me. Twice," she hissed. Jack growled, muttering under his breath, before standing.

"You has two broken ribs," Jack told her, reaching up to get some bandage to wrap around her midsection. She warned him not to use too much, because the boys would need it and he nodded.

"Why's ya voice so raspy?" he asked as he wrapped her.

"Guy tried to strangle me. Davy broke a club on the back o' his head for it."

Jack gave a grim smile before joining her to wash his hands quickly.

"You'd bettah put ya hair up befah Kloppman gets back."

She looked in the mirror and saw her hair was entirely loose and falling around her face. She nodded, splashing water on her face before sticking it into the cap one of the younger boys had retrieved for her earlier.

They headed out the door to the washroom and were immediately bombarded with wounded. Al went immediately to the one deemed to be in the worst condition and felt tears prick her eyes as she found herself standing over Snipeshooter.

She set to work immediately, using David as her assistant while Jack and Racetrack worked on some of those who weren't hurt as badly. Mush was sent downstairs to get Kloppman's medical aid kit and he brought it back up, a basket she recognized all too well.

She pulled his buttoned up shirt open and choked back a sob as her eyes fell on the stab wound on his stomach.

"They had knives?" she questioned, mostly to herself.

She knew thugs carried knives regularly, heck she'd been attacked with them more than once, but it didn't make her feel any better. She forced herself to remain composed as she washed off the wound, first with a wet cloth and then with some sanitizing stuff that Kloppman had used on her a few times before. It stung like hell, she knew, but Snipe didn't react and that scared her more than anything.

"David, I need ya to hand me the curved needle an' the thread." she told him, ignoring all else as she set to tending to the younger boy's wound. It was noisy in the bunkroom, but Al made herself block it all out. She didn't even notice when, halfway through stitching up Snipeshooter's wound, Sarah showed up and started working on helping to take care of the boys.

Al tied off the stitches and had David help her lift Snipeshooter up to sitting after she placed a good amount of gauze on the wound and wrapped the bandages over it to hold her work in place. She cleaned his face next and made sure there wasn't any other major damage, though she bandaged what she found needed it. He had lost a fair amount of blood, but she thought he would be okay. She ran to wash her hands and had David sanitize the needle, knowing without a doubt that she'd need it again.

"You looked like you've done that before," David pointed out as she rushed to dry her hands.

"I have. More times than I can count." And she was telling the whole truth.

She ran back to the next in line for triage and found Sarah doing her best to help. It was Runner and his head trauma was pretty bad. The older girl had cleaned off the wound, but she was fidgeting now, not knowing what to do.

"He needs stitches," Sarah said, turning to look up at her and Al saw that tears were pouring down the other girl's face. "I don't know how to give stitches."

"I do. It'll be fine," Al soothed. "Go to the next in line and get him ready for me, alright?"

Sarah nodded, looking considerably calmer now that she had something she could do to help. Still, tears continued to trek down her face as she walked away.

David was back in a matter of seconds and she was beyond grateful. Sarah's distress had unnerved her and seeing that she had someone to help her kept her from letting it get to her. She splayed her fingers nervously before sanitizing Runner's head wound.

She wanted to wince for the boy as she stuck the needle in and found herself remembering the first time she'd stitched up someone's head. It was that night that her father cracked the bottle over Jack's head. She'd been so small, just as Jack had been. She wanted to throw up at the memory of Jack asking her to stitch it together. She'd had to use a straight needle and Jack had waited patiently as she worked with trembling fingers. She had broken down sobbing afterward and Jack had held her while she cried. They were lucky the wound had never gotten infected. Jack still had the scar, though.

Her fingers must have started trembling at the memory, because she felt David put a hand on her shoulder.

"You can do this, Al," he reminded her gently. "Just breathe. You can do this."

She nodded and pushed her memories out of her mind, forcing herself to focus only on stitching up Runner's head. She sent David down for ice when she was halfway done, knowing the swelling would only get worse if she didn't, and that could yield badly for him. David helped hold Runner's head up as they wrapped a bandage around it and placed the ice atop it.

"You alright? You seemed to freak out a little there," David said as she hurried to wash her hands again and get to the next patient. She found the need to wash her hands after each patient tedious, but knew it was just as necessary as having David clean and sterilize the needle before each set of stitches.

"I was rememberin' when I had to give Jack stitches as a kid. It was the foist set of stitches I ever gave," she answered, drying her hands off again.

He nodded solemnly. "How old-"

"Come on, we gotta get to the next person."

She made it through two more patients and was finally feeling like things were going well. Every breath she took hurt and she kept wondering when there wouldn't be any more wounded boys to take care of. Surely there would be an end. Suddenly, a snapping noise and a loud cry of pure agony echoed through the room. Al jumped nearly three feet in the air and Sarah let out a small scream in response. Not to mention, most of the conscious boys on the beds nearly fell off of them.

Al was on her feet before she could think about it and had moved in next to Jack. He was standing with a few other boys over Itey, who had his teeth clenched and tears pouring from his eyes.

"We had to set his leg. It was pretty bad," was all Jack said. She nodded, looking over the now purpling skin. It wasn't a compound fracture, so they didn't need her help.

She moved to walk away when she saw Denton and another man with a large black bag in his hand. She went to greet them.

"You the doc?" she asked after nodding to them in acknowledgement.

"Yes, I'm here to help. What have you done so far?" Al took him over quickly, showing him both Snipeshooter and Runner first, explaining that they had been the ones to come in the worst condition. She hoped he would check them out, just to make sure she hadn't missed doing something that could help.

"I stitched 'em up already, but they ain't wakin' yet. An' my bruddah already set Itey's broke leg ovah there. Sarah's fixin' up the boys whose bones don't need settin', only some splints'n such."

The doctor looked over both boys, flashing a small flashlight in their eyes and examining her stitching. She started to fidget, thinking she needed to get back to working on the boys.

"You did really well, young man," he said, fixing the spectacles on his nose. "These boys might have died if you hadn't been there for them." The idea made nausea rise up in her stomach and she knew her face was paling without looking at it. "You did well, son."

She left him shortly after that. He both supervised and took over the worse cases, letting Al get to the ones who just needed a few stitches or something of the like. David still hovered and helped her take care of the needles. She suspected he didn't know what else to do and he wasn't the sort who would just sit there and not help.

Spot, however, was exactly that sort of person.

She noticed him lounging in the hallway while she was walking from the washroom for the near thousandth time, just as Sarah called David over for a momet. He was clearly in fine condition. A bruise on his cheek and his dishevelled hair and clothes the only indication that he'd been in a fight little more than an hour or two ago. She was glad to find him sitting there, because she needed someone to run an errand and most of the boys had either left, were wounded, or were helping with the wounded.

"Heya, dollface," he greeted her.

She walked over to him and wordlessly held out a dime. He quirked an eyebrow at her and waited for her to speak.

"I need ya to go get more bandages. The doc's 'bout to run out an' we still got boys who need it."

"Find one o' your boys to take care of it."

Al bristled. "My boys is hoit, Spot. An' you're here sittin' on ya lazy, good-for-nothin' rear. Someone's gotta go get these bandages an' it had bettah be you."

"I don't gotta do nothin' for your boys, Ali. They ain't my concoin." He crossed his arms as he stood, telling her to back off with his body language as well as his words. "I'm here to talk to Jacky-boy an' I ain't movin' 'til I do."

She knew subconsciously that this was a bad way to get Conlon to do anything. Coaxing was often more effective than confrontation with him, but she was too on edge for that right now. All she was aware of was how angry she was and how badly she wanted to take that frustration out on the Brooklyn leader who sat there with his cocky smirk while her Manhattan newsies were suffering in the other room.

She snarled as he just stood there, daring her to make a move. She didn't think he'd hit her. He wasn't stupid enough to jump the leader's sister in their own lodging house and she knew it. But she knew his infamous temper wasn't exaggerated and didn't want to take the chance right now, when pain was shooting through her system with nearly every movement she made.

"I'll get them," David said, coming in and putting a hand on Al's shoulder, clearly worried that things would come to blows. "I'll be back before ya know it."

Al let out a breath and stepped back, still fuming. She handed the dime to her friend and bid him to hurry before heading back into the bunkroom. She turned back to Spot, face angry. "You helped me once, Spot, and I'll always be grateful for that. But you're not that same kid anymore. You're just a rotten piece o' trash who don't care 'bout nobody."

It was an hour or two after noon when the newsies were done being cared for. Denton took a picture of the room with that fancy camera of his, invited them to lunch at Tibby's provided by himself tomorrow, and left with the doctor. Al surveyed the room from where she sat, leaning up against the wall. Jack was talking to Spot in the next room, discussing the state of things, and David had gone to walk Sarah home, saying he'd be back soon. Half of the boys were asleep and the rest were talking or playing cards as usual. The room felt eery and quiet to her. She was used to boys tackling and climbing over each other in here. She couldn't remember ever seeing this many hurt in one room.

Racetrack came and sat beside her. He sported a black right eye and a shallow knife wound on his arm that had been bandaged. His knuckles had a bit of dried blood from being skinned by his punches. They were too calloused to need bandaging. In fact, most of the older boys, sans David who wasn't used to fighting this often, had foregone the cloth around their knuckles so there would be enough for the worse damage. The only reason Jack and Al had used them was because their knuckles had only just started healing when they entered the fray this morning, so the fight had only torn them up worse.

"How ya holdin' up, Al?" Racetrack asked, studying her with a keen eye.

"I've been bettah, but I've also been woise." She tried to shrug and only managed to wince.

"Ya get tended to?"

"Yeah, Jacky fixed me up befah I started woikin' on anyone. Jus' some broke ribs an' a couple o' bruises," she explained, still looking forward at the boys in the room. "Don't feel much like a vict'ry when everybody's hurt."

"It'll feel more like one latah, though. 'Specially once ya get some sleep an' the boys is startin' to feel more like theirselves," he told her, then spared her a sideways glance. "I hoid Davy came to ya rescue today."

"Yeah, I woulda been in real bad shape if 'e hadn't been there," she conceded.

"It was awful sweet o' him, don't ya think?"

Al's eyes narrowed and she turned to peer at him. "Whattaya tryin' to say, Race?"

"I'm jus' wonderin' if ya getting sweet on the kid, that's all." Race shrugged nonchalantly, though she didn't doubt there was a twinkle in his eyes that she couldn't see from this angle.

"Now why would I be doin' sommat like that?"

"Don't ask me, I ain't a goil," he pointed out, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"Hmm," was her only response. She laid her head on her good friend's shoulder, feeling the exhaustion creep further into her system. Her eyes were getting heavy and they drooped.

"You didn't answer the question, Cap."

"Shut up, Race."


	15. Nightmare

_**Author's Note: I was kinda sad to have to translate my favorite song in the movie to conversation, but I still enjoyed this chapter. What I'm not enjoying is how long it's taking me to write Chapter 22 for this. I keep writing a few sentences and having to stop because the rally isn't hashing out exactly how I want it to. I'll figure it out, though. . . . On the bright side, my mom bought me a canvas picture of the Brooklyn Bridge with pinhole lights shining through. It's gorgeous!  
>More than a few thank yous to Ealasaid Una, Narniafan96, and LucyofNarnia who reviewed the last chapter, Triage! :) <strong>_

**Chapter 15- Nightmare**

Al woke to the sound of Race's voice just over her head.

"Heya, Davy, how's the family?" he asked. Al blinked a few times before sitting up straight.

"How long was I out?" she asked before David could answer his friend's question.

"Half an' hour, I think," Racetrack laughed. "I didn't wanna wake ya. You looked like ya need a nap."

"I did. Thanks," she yawned.

"Sarah's fine, just a little shaken up, an' Les is mad I didn't bring 'im this morning and even madder that I wouldn't bring him now. Mom and Dad weren't home, so they don't know what's happened yet," David told them in answer to Racetrack's earlier question.

"I'm glad 'e didn't come. A fight like that's the woist place for a kid," he commented back.

Al nodded. "I wish alot o' these kids'd had a mom to hold 'em back this mornin'. Runner wouldn't 'ave stitches on 'is head right now."

"If Runner had a mom who cared about 'im 'e wouldn't be livin' in the Lodge either," Race pointed out. Al sighed.

"How did you learn to take care of everyone like that?" David asked, changing the subject in the easiest way he could come up with.

"Mostly from experience an' Kloppman. He even let me borrow a book or two 'bout medical practice a while back. I tend to be the one that patches up the boys aftah a fight since he's already got enough on 'is plate," Al answered.

Just then, Jack and Spot came down from the roof where they'd been talking in private. The latter walked straight down the stairs, the door shutting behind him as he headed back to Brooklyn without a single goodbye. Jack came into the bunk room.

"What'd 'e say?" Racetrack asked as Jack sat beside David, the group of them like four sentries watching over a vulnerable army.

"Foist of all, I'm pretty sure Al is the only one who can get away with callin' Conlon a piece o' trash an' not come away with a broken nose."

"Are you really stupid enough to put our ties with Brooklyn on edge because you're irritated with 'im?" Racetrack facepalmed.

"He desoived it," Al answered dismissively. "An' he'll get ovah it."

"Anyway, Spot said one o' his boidies he'd sent over aftah we visited found out about the thugs an' reported it back to 'im. That's why he made it to the Distribution Center at the right time," Jack finished, sending a glare at the two for interrupting.

The rest of the day proceeded in what was very much like a blur. Al went and bought some bread for the boys and passed it out to those wounded. The still unconscious ones were given some water to drink instead. She and Jack bought enough bread for the two to share and scarfed it down as well.

The newsies were exhausted, that much was clear. It showed in every movement and each face. They ended up retiring early, though quite a few boys had to sleep on the ground because their bunks were being taken by someone who was too hurt to go back out on the streets. Kloppman was gracious enough to let the street kids stay for the night, or until they were better.

Al found herself bunking with Jack since her bed was being occupied by Salamander, a twelve year old boy who'd been stabbed in the shoulder. He was one of the street kids who didn't have a home or a lodging house. She was more than happy to give up her bed for him to recover. She drifted off to sleep, head under her pillow, and her brother's arm over her stomach.

_"Daddy, I didn't mean to!" Alison cried as she tried to scramble away from her irate father. At five, she didn't have much of a chance. She felt the jerk of her collar and suddenly she was flying backward and it was her body that shattered the hallway mirror. _

_She hit the ground sobbing. Glass shards cut her palms and she knew more were probably sticking into her back. What had she done to deserve this? She didn't mean to drop his beer bottle! She didn't mean to make him angry._

_"I'm sorry, Daddy! I'm sorry!" she tried to apologize, but at the look on his face, she knew it wasn't going to work. He picked her up by her hair and she screamed, trying to wriggle free. _

_"Daddy, please don't hurt her." Jack was standing at the end of the hallway, his knuckles white as he clutched his black stuffed horse._

_"Don't tell me what to do, boy, or you'll be next," her father fairly hissed._

_"Please stop, Daddy," he pleaded, edging forward. His father slammed the side of her head into the wall and dropped her onto the floor again. He turned toward Jack with a low growl and her brother froze, eyes wide with terror._

_"Don't you evah talk back to me again!" he slapped Jack full-force across the face. "If you ever speak to me that way-" Al couldn't hear the rest. He just kept slapping Jack and the younger boy took it, only taking steps back when he nearly lost his balance from the impact. Tears streaked down his face, but he held his ground, staring blankly at the man towering over him._

_"No! Stop!" Al cried. "Leave him alone! I did it! I dropped it, Daddy!" _

Al woke up with a strangled sob and immediately regretted the deep breath. Pain shot from her ribs through the rest of her body and her sob was followed by a weak cry.

"You alright, Al?" Jack stirred beside her, sounding groggy but concerned.

"M'fine," she answered quietly, pulling the pillow off her face so she could breath properly again. Jack's eyes were open and he studied her in the darkness.

"You was havin' anothah nightmare, weren't ya?"

She didn't answer and that was all the answer he needed. He planted a kiss on her temple and she could've cried from his affection. If he didn't love her so much, he would be safer, she realized. Al regarded her tired, but now alert, brother with renewed appreciation. He would take on all of New York for her and she knew it. She would do the same for him in a heartbeat.

"You're the best bruddah I could evah ask for, ya know that?" she whispered, trying not to let the emotion into her voice. It didn't work, because instead of Jack making a smart remark, he tensed.

"What happened?"

"It was a mem'ry. The one when I was five an' dropped his beer an' 'e broke the mirror with me." It was all the detail she trusted herself to give and it was all he needed. He reached up and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. She hadn't realized she was crying before that.

"I'm sorry," she apologized and knew she was talking about more than waking him up or him seeing her cry.

"Don't be. I mean it, Al. You was and still are woith it," was his only answer.

It took a while before she could fall back asleep, but she finally managed it, nuzzling her face into her brother's chest and putting her pillow back over her head. She drifted off into more peaceful dreams, thanking God that he'd given her this boy as her brother. She didn't deserve him.

The next morning went by, quick and uneventful. None of the traitorous newsies bothered showing their faces and Pulitzer had no one to sell his dirty papers. Al stayed with Mush at the Lodge until lunchtime. The two of them took care of those still in bed. More than half of yesterdays kids were well enough to leave the lodging house, which made their work that much easier. Mush washed the bedclothes and Al changed bandages, sometimes needing his assistance for that too.

They walked to Tibby's together, leaving Kloppman to take care of the boys in their absence and talking amiably along the way. The only reference to yesterday's fight was Mush informing her that Kid Blink had gotten in at least two good punches to Weasel's rotten face. She couldn't help but smile and feel jealous at the same time. They had all longed to punch him more than once in their lives. In fact, many dreamed that his death would be a time of celebration among the Manhattan newsboys.

"Blink deserves a reward," Al laughed.

"Got that right!" Mush agreed. "Wish I'd gotten the chance. 'Woulda made sure his nose was broken."

Al nodded in agreement. "How's your arm?"

"Doin' good since ya stitched it up, Cap. Thanks for that."

They reached Tibby's not long afterward and the place was already overrun by newsies. Denton had really outdone himself inviting this many of them to lunch. She hoped they weren't eating him out of house and home. He had said he was the star reporter, though, so maybe this wasn't a big deal for him.

Denton came in just as she was settling herself at one of the tables between her brother and Mush. David, Les, and Racetrack sat on the other side.

"Hey boys!" he said, in a loud voice as he walked in carrying a newspaper with pride. He smile and dropped it in between Jack and David. Everyone crowded around before they could so much as blink at the paper. Jack spun it to look at the picture.

"Where's me picture? Where's me picture?" Spot was asking from between Al and her brother. Al leaned forward to look, realizing if she didn't take the opportunity now, she may not get to see it. The boys would start fighting over it in a matter of seconds.

She pushed Mush's finger out of the way and found herself between Jack and David in the middle of the picture. Everyone's faces were beaming, though bruised and some of them had blood on their clothes. The bruise on Jack's cheek was evident even through the black and white; so was Al's half-black eye, the shiner on David's chin, Racetrack's black eye, and the blood dripping from the gash over Mush's left eye. He was lucky it hadn't been deep enough for him to need stitches. Then again, she was lucky too. Mush was a horrible squirmer and patching up his arm had been hard enough work, even with Blink helping David hold his arm still and threatening to soak him if he flinched one more time.

She couldn't help but notice that David's arm was still wrapped around her waist and her arm around his shoulder. She knew it was for support, but seeing it in the picture made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. She wasn't sure why, but she liked the idea of him having his arm around her on the front page of the Sun.

"Where does it say my name? Where's my name?" Spot hollered obnoxiously.

"Would ya stop thinkin' about yourself?" Jack answered.

"You got us on the front page!" David said, beaming up at Denton.

"No, you got yourselves on the front page. You just gotta make sure you stay there."

"So what? You get your pictures in the papes, so what's that getcha, huh?" Skittery asked from where he stood behind Les.

"Hey, what're you talkin' about, huh?" Mush asked indignantly.

"You've been in a bad mood all day!" Jack yelled over the other boys who were getting irritated.

Al didn't doubt that the kid had been in a bad mood. After yesterday, a day of both victory and a sense of defeat, she wouldn't be surprised if everyone was at least a little cross. In fact, they were proving that they were too just by making such a big deal about what he'd said.

"I'm not in a bad mood-"

"Hey glum and dumb, what's the mattah with you?" Racetrack smacked him in the face without even bothering to stand. "You're in the papes, you're famous. Ya famous, you get anything you want. That's what's so great about New York!"

Sure enough, before she could even read the article, the boys started fighting over it and Jack relinquished it with a yell of, "You rip it an' I'll rip you." Al rolled her eyes as they walked away.

"I'd get a pair o' new shoes with matchin' laces," Mush said as he and Al received their food.

"What?" Les asked, head cocked with curiosity.

"If I was famous an' could 'ave whatever I wanted. I'd get a pair o' new shoes with matchin' laces," Mush responded with satisfaction.

"I'd get a poimanent box at the Sheepshed races," Racetrack answered without having to think about it.

"A porcelain tub with boilin' watah," Spot added, now standing behind where Jack and Al sat. Al bit back a joke about how he needed a good washing.

"I'd get a mezzanine seat so I'd always be able to see when I go to the flickers," Les decided after a moment of stroking his chin. Al laughed and smiled at the younger boy.

"I'd go to Santa Fe in the deluxe hoity toity section," Jack laughed. "An' me an' Al would be all fancied up an' stuff."

"You deserve the editor's desk, Denton," David said, pulling a seat up so he could join them at the end of the table between he and Jack.

"There he is! The king o' New York!" Jack announced loud enough that the rowdy newsies all agreed.

"Look at that- I'm the king of New York." Denton smiled, clearly glad the newsies were so proud of him. Al thought he looked like he was proud of them too.

"I'll bet Weasel's dyin' right now," Racetrack commented excitedly.

"I just hope Pulitzer's in tears over his blasted money," Al rolled her eyes at the thought.

"It may be in the trash tomorrow, but we're stars today, boys," Mush laughed.

"Well, let's have some ideas," Jack said, standing so all the boys could hear him.

"For what?" Blink questioned from the booth across from him.

"We gotta stay in the papes," was Jack's answer.

"My paper's the only one printing the strike news so far," Denton commented just as Al finished the sandwich she'd been given, glad that her stomach was full again.

"We gotta stay in the Sun, then," Jack amended. "An' we've gotta do somethin' so big the other papahs are gonna feel stupid if they try an' ignore us."

"We've gotta show people where we stand," David said.

"So start gettin' ideas!" Jack demanded.

"We could burn down the WDC," Matches suggested.

"No!" more than one voice chorused, looking at the pyromanaical child like he was crazy, which he very well might be.

"It was just a suggestion," he muttered, pouting. "The trolley woikers is doin' stuff like that."

"Well we won't be," David said firmly. Jack and Al nodded. They were all for soaking, but lighting the building on fire? That was too far and someone could get killed.

"We should have some kinda gatherin'."

"Like a rally! Good idea, Boots." Jack smiled an idea clearly forming in his mind. "A newsie rally with all the kids from ovah New York! We'll make it the biggest, loudest, noisiest blowout this town's evah seen."

Suddenly the boys were all over the idea and it wasn't long before the plan was in motion. Al suggested having it at Medda's and Jack sent she and David over to ask her permission while they finished up. The two headed out the door only a few minutes later, the rest of the boys still brainstorming.


	16. Questions

_**Author's Note: It's been a long few days and my heads been up in the clouds, but I remembered y'all through it all. Haha. So here's the new chapter! Don't forget to review! And many, many, many thanks to Narniafan96, Austra, LucyofNarnia, Rachel, and Ealasaid Una, who gave beastin' reviews! :) Now time for me to go watch the newest Doctor Who episode with my brother! :P**_

**Chapter 16- Questions**

"What would you get if ya could have whatevah ya wanted?" Al asked, thinking back to the boys' excitement over the paper.

"I'd start my own paper an' be a reporter for it," David answered after only a few seconds of hesitation. "After I made sure my family didn't have to worry about money or my dad having to go back to the factory."

"You wanna be a reportah?"

"Yeah, I've always thought it would be somethin' fun, ya know? And now with the strike and Denton, I'm even more excited about the idea," David said, giving her a sideways glance as she studied him. "What?"

Al shrugged, smiling as they walked. "Nothin'. I'm just picturing you as a star reportah." She eyed him for a few more seconds. "I like it," she decided, making her friend smile. David would be just the kind of reporter Denton had proved to be- honest, full of integrity, ready to face any giant, and ever ready to help those in need. In fact, she thought he'd be even better than Denton, though she wouldn't give voice to that opinion. It would only get Race snickering at her again about being sweet on David. Which she wasn't. . . was she?

No, definitely not. They were just friends.

"What about you? What would you get?"

"Why're you always askin' so many questions? I swear, if we hadn't already decided we was gonna call you the Walkin' Mouth, I'd start callin' you Questions instead." Al rolled her eyes as she said it.

"You were the first to ask a question on this walk," David pointed out. "But fine. Answer this question and I won't ask any more until we get to Medda. In fact, I'll answer any that you have."

"Deal," she spat in her hand and held it out, stopping their progress down the street. David curled one side of his upper lip and hesitated, but finally spit shook with her. He rubbed his hand on the side of his pants immediately afterward, muttering about hygiene and newsies.

"I'd pay off Snyder or bribe a judge or somethin', so's they'd leave Jack alone an' then I'd get us a house, maybe even an apartment, but here in New York."

"So you don't want to go to Santa Fe?"

She glared at him for breaking his promise so quickly and he huffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. Al rolled her eyes again and smirked at his irritation.

"So what should I ask ya?" she pondered aloud. "How did your father get 'is arm hoit?"

"An accident in the factory he worked in. I told Jack about it the first night you came over, but you were with Sarah," David answered, turning a corner with her. "I don't know the details. Only that something heavy landed on it and broke it in more than one place. He's sure it'll get better, but I'm still worried."

"When did it happen?"

"About a month ago."

"That's rough," Al said sympathetically. She let a few moments pass before asking the next question: "You ever had any other job besides bein' a newsie?"

"I helped in a book shop for a summer. It was a pretty fun job."

"Huh." Al speculated, trying to decide what question to ask next. Finally, she settled on something that would work. "What do you like to do when ya have free time?"

"I like baseball," David answered. "And I like readin' and helpin' Papa with things around the house- like fixing things- or helping Les with his homework if it's somethin' I'm good at. I like hanging out with you and Jack an' the rest of the newsies." He smiled. "I like doing something good when the odds are against me, because it shows me what I'm made of."

Al smiled at him, deciding she was definitely glad she'd made friends with this kid. "That's the best kinda fight. When ya win even when it looked like you never could."

"I guess that's why everyone's still so excited about yesterday. It looked like were were all gonna get killed out there and then suddenly the tides turned and we won in the blink of an eye." David flashed a grin.

"I know. I can't imagine what woulda happened if Brooklyn hadn't shown up." She practically breathed a sigh of relief just remembering it. "Or you. Speakin' o' which, I nevah got to say thanks for helpin' me out back there."

David was tugging on his ear now. "You're welcome. An' thanks for helpin' me an' Jack when Morris had us pinned. That chain hurt like hell." He unconsciously brought a hand up to the shoulder she knew had a nasty bruise across it. She grit her teeth. Those idiot Delanceys! Jack's ribs were pretty ugly looking too, though she was at least glad they hadn't broken like hers had. She almost hoped they'd try to attack her again, if only to give her an excuse to soak their sorry behinds. Maybe after she'd healed up a bit more, though.

"Yeah, and the Delanceys belong there."

He caught her meaning and broke out into laughter. Al tried not to do the same since it hurt every time her chest moved. She did, however, bare a smile almost as wide as her face.

"What's ya woist fear?" she finally came up with, almost a full minute after David had stopped chuckling.

He thought long and hard about this one. It wasn't until she was about to repeat the question for fear he'd forgotten it that he finally answered.

"That I won't be able to protect my family and the people I care about or be there for them when they need me," he answered and looked long and hard at her until she started to squirm under his gaze. She knew he meant her too and the fact made her stomach flip in a good way. She supressed a smile. What was this?

"What's yours?" he asked.

She knew he'd broken the rule, but she answered anyway. "That I'll end up alone, all by myself." She didn't have to hesitate or think about it. She had pondered it nearly every day of her life. Especially, the few day that Jack had been in prison and she wondered if she'd ever get him back. This was the fear that kept her up at night. "That Jack'll be gone an' everyone else I care about an' I'll be left on my own with no one who cares."

"You won't."

For some reason, she believed him. If only for the rest of that walk, she knew everything would turn out alright in the end. No matter what happened. It was going to be okay.

They arrived at Medda's shortly afterward.

She brought them into the sitting room, ecstatic to be seeing them again and on such short notice, though she was disappointed that Les hadn't come too. She smiled brightly as she served them each a cup of coffee and seated herself with one in her hand.

"What brings you here, kids?" she asked, sipping at her cup. Al tried to take a sip of hers and burnt her tongue, which caused her to jump and spill half of it on her lap. She jumped up, trying not to wince at the pain in her ribs as she did. She set the cup down on the table in front of her and sent a glare at David, who was miserably failing at trying to muffle his laughter. He saw her glaring and it made him laughed harder.

"Oh, dear, let me get something to clean that up with." Medda hurried out and was back in a heartbeat with a hand towel. When Al had settled back into her seat and Dave's face was starting to return to it's normal color now that he could breathe, she asked again. "What brings the two of you here?"

David explained the events of the strike and the fact that they needed a place for the rally. They had immediately though of her and come over, wondering if she would be so kind as to host it.

"Of course! I would love to help you." she smiled brightly. "What an event! We'll have to put a whole new act together just for you. Oh! I know the perfect song to start off with and then I'll have Benny-"

Medda was talking to herself now more than them and Al sunk into her seat. They were going to be here for a while

They stayed at Medda's place for nearly two hours before David said he would need to be getting home soon and still had to walk Al back to the lodging house. Medda of course, thought it was incredibly sweet that he would walk her home and didn't stop going on about chivalry and how adorable the two of them were until they were out the door and both very red.

"Well, that was interesting," Al said after a few minutes of silence, only when she was sure all the red had drained from her face and she had finally become comfortable speaking again.

"Got that right," David answered. "But we've got a rally now."

"It'll be a blast."

They walked on in companionable silence for a few more streets. She was glad of it. Usually when she was out walking with one of the boys, they'd fill the whole time talking about what they did that day, their plans for the future, or some funny story they were certain she would want to hear. She enjoyed it more often than not, but she was glad for the fact that David wasn't in a hurry to fill the silence. It seemed that the more comfortable he got with her, the less he felt like he had to fill in the gaps in the conversation. Though, that didn't mean his brain had stopped moving or that he was hesitant to speak when he thought of something to say.

Even in the twilight, she could practically see wheels turning in his head and she wondered if he psycho-analyzed every part of his day. Then again, here she was psycho-analyzing David, so she couldn't really talk. She just wasn't one for asking questions. She preferred to make assumptions. David seemed to want to know everything about the people around him and would ask a stream of questions until he was content. Al was content to let things be. A newsie's past wasn't something you pried into. It was something you let them tell on their own time and didn't begrudge them if they never did.

David didn't get that yet and it was sending Al for a loop. She didn't know how to deter him without hurting him. It wouldn't be long before he picked up the discrepancies in their story, too. The newsies had undoubtedly spotted them, but newsies knew when to leave well enough alone. And then there was that strange feeling she had when he asked her questions. . . like maybe she wanted him to know everything about her. It would be nice for someone to. Someone who wasn't her brother.

That's why, when she saw him opening his mouth to ask another of his infernal questions, she spat out the first one that popped into her head. "So how long do ya think this strike is gonna last?"

David considered the question before answering, "I don't know, but it can't last long at the rate we're going. Pulitzer's gotta be losing hundreds, if not thousands. He's gotta budge at some point."

"If we're costin' 'im that much- ya think he's gonna keep tryin' to stop us like he did yesterday?" she asked, the idea making her feel antsy. Yes, she was used to violence. Heck, she'd gone up against guys with clubs, chains, and/or knives before. Not often, but she'd done it. However, she had never faced as many as they did yesterday or had to care for so many who were hurt.

After yesterday, the idea of having to stitch up another knife wound was nauseating.

"Definitely," David answered without hesitation. "But I doubt it'll be in the same way twice. After his last attempt to shut us up failed, he'll need to do better this time- be sneakier. Especially now that it's in the paper."

"I wish he'd just give up."

"That would make our job a whole lot easier," David nodded. "I can imagine he'll have a hard enough time though, with everyone who got a copy of the Sun will hopefully be on our side."

"Did you read the article?"

"No, I wanted to, but the pape got swiped," he laughed. "Did you?"

"I didn't see it any longer'n you did." She paused. "We should warn Jack and the boys 'bout 'im tryin' to be sneakier. They'll have to keep an eye out. We all will."

It was at that point that they turned the corner and saw Blink sitting outside the lodge, the orange end of his cigarette glowing in the darkening city. The street lamps were lit now and the sky was almost black.

"Thanks fah walkin' me back, Davy," she said, turning to him. "It was real nice o' ya. I'll let Jack know about Pulitzer. You'd bettah get home. These streets ain't safe at night."

"Yeah, Momma will be worried after I came home even more beaten up yesterday," he conceded.

Al couldn't resist a chuckle at that, "How'd she take it?"

"She fussed over me for half an hour until Sarah finally rescued me," he laughed and she laughed with him. Then he looked at her more seriously. "Momma and Pappa really want to see you and Jack again. They feel really bad about what they said and they like havin' the two of you around."

''I'll see if Jacky an' I can drop by soon," she said, half-heartedly. She didn't really want to go see David's parents again after last time. It would just be awkward and that was something she definitely wanted to avoid.

"Okay, well, I'd better get home," he said. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sounds great. Bye, Davy."

"Bye, Alison."


	17. Man Up

_**Author's Note: Instead of cookies, I am giving virtual slingshots to Ealasaid Una, Rachel, and Austra, who all left wonderful reviews on the last chapter. Use them wisely. Haha.  
>Also, I've decided it would probably be best to start putting 'Disclaimers' at the end of chapters where I introduce a minor OC (you won't be seeing any major OC's except Al) so as to avoid confusion. I'll only do this the first time they're mentioned, though. And in this chapter, where I catch up in listing them. <strong>_

**Chapter 17- Man Up**

When Al reached the steps, Blink offered her a couple of drags from his cigarette and she accepted quickly, glad for his generosity. He looked at her with brows dipped as she smoked. He didn't speak until she handed it back.

"Look Al, Cowboy's banned us all from talkin' 'bout the pape or bringin' it inside, alright?" He said in his usually gruff, but amiable manner.

Al's brow furrowed. "Why?"

"You're hair, idiot," he answered as he received his cigarette back. He wasn't angry, that was just the way he was and she knew it. "Must've gotten pulled loose in the fight."

Al visibly cringed. That was definitely not good. How had she not noticed that when she saw the picture in the paper? She was both irritated with herself for missing it and Denton for taking the picture. Hadn't Jack told him no pictures? Then again, they didn't exactly panic when he whipped out the camera. No, they had posed.

"Thanks for tellin' me, Blink."

"No problem, Cap. Jus' be careful," he answered. "Oh, an' make sure Jack doesn't make me evah take the kid home again. He doesn't _stop_ talkin'!"

She headed inside, head shaking with a smile, and headed immediately upstairs. Of course, Jack had made Blink take Les home, knowing he wouldn't enjoy the task. Her brother always did enjoy irritating others. Particularly Kid Blink and Skittery.

She was only slightly concerned that the boys were making posters and signs downstairs for both the strike and the rally. If Jack had spent their money on this, she was going to be extremely irritated. Then again, where else would it have come from?

She headed into the bunk room and checked up on the boys still in beds. There were only four who weren't from the Lodge now. Al almost wished that they would hurry up and heal so she wouldn't have to be so extra careful while they were here. She knew for a fact that three of them had no idea she was a girl.

Snipeshooter was snoring loudly where he lay, now in his own bed, and it looked like someone had washed the sheets to the one he'd occupied before. Runner was awake and sitting with Jack at the end of the bed. He had a few tear streaks shimmering on his face, but they looked like they had dried there when Jack started telling him what she guessed was the story in the newspaper.

"Hey Cap!" Runner smiled when she saw her watching them. Jack turned around and sent a smile in her direction.

"'Bout time ya got back. Did David walk ya?"

"Yeah," she answered. "Medda's more than excited 'bout the rally. She wouldn't stop talkin' bout _how_ excited she was."

Jack smiled in response and turned back to the boy while Al finished checking up on the rest of her 'patients'. Kloppman had taken good care of them, she was sure, but she wanted to see it with her own eyes first. When she was done, she turned back to her brother, who was still keeping the eight year-old entertained. She had almost forgotten to talk to Jack.

"Hey Jack, can I talk to ya for a sec?"

Jack patted the kid on the knee and walked over to where she stood, leaning against the door to the washroom.

"What's up, Al?"

"Davy says Pulitzer ain't gonna stop while 'e's behind. He's prolly gonna get sneakier an' all that, so's we gotta keep an eye out for anythin' he could be plannin'."

"Did 'e say what he might try to do?" Jack asked, running a hand through his hair.

"No, jus' said to keep an eye out. He don' know how Pulitzer's brain runs any more'n we do," Al answered. "All 'e knows is that if we's costin' him as much as we are, he's gonna be pretty cheesed."

"Thanks for tellin' me," Jack said, nodding as the wheels spun in his head. "Anythin' else?"

"Yeah, did ya spend our food money on those signs down there?" she asked, left eyebrow raised.

Jack laughed and made to clap her on the shoulder before thinking better of it and dropping his hand by his side. He turned back to where Runner was patiently waiting and called over his shoulder, "Didn't you hear me tell Crutchy to take up a collection?"

She should have known. She shook her head with a sigh and went down the stairs to help some of the boys with their painting. She kept away from Kloppman as often as possible, just as she'd been doing for the last few years- especially as she got older. The man may be nearly blind as a bat, but he was shrewd as a snake and she didn't want to take the chance.

She was helping Crutchy and Itey with a sign that said 'Pulitzer don't own us!' and another that advertized the rally when she head a sickening voice over her shoulder that made her stomach churn.

"You have a boy who calls himself Jack Kelly," she heard Snyder saying. "I wish to see him." Al stood and helped Crutchy up, feeling butterflies slamming into the borders of her stomach as if begging to be let out.

"Kelly. . . Kelly? Never hoid of 'im," Kloppman answered, always ready to take care of his boys. She could kiss the old man out of sheer relief. "Any of you boys ever heard of Jack Kelly?"

"That's an unusual name for these parts," Specs responded, eyeing the man. The boy turned to Al and she tried not to look back, pushing her cap a little further down on her head. Snyder seemed to notice the action and took two strides over to her, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look up at him. She felt like her heart was going to stop. She didn't dare let her emotions betray her and tried her best to look calmly up at him.

"You bear a striking resemblance to the boy," he said.

"Yeah, maybe 'e's a long lost cousin o' mine," she laughed, trying to pull her chin away and not bothering to hide her disgust for him. It was common knowledge that no newsie like Snyder. He didn't let go of her face and she quelled the urge to panic, now thankful for the bruising on her face in hiding who she really was.

"What's your name?"

"Cap. Now get ya hands offa me," she responded, getting angry.

He twisted her head back and forth as if studying her. "The boy didn't have a brother. Only a sister. You do look quite feminine, though." He pulled back and slapped her clean across the face. Not once, but twice. The second time was a backhand to the other cheek. "Man up."

Al shoved his chest, pushing herself away from him. Tears stung her eyes from the blows, but pure fury rose up in her chest. How dare he? She drew a hand back to throw a punch before Racetrack edged up between them. Itey grabbed her arm and pulled her back behind himself, more to keep her from doing something stupid than to protect her. She could see Jack on the other side being pushed through the downstairs sitting room doorway by Mush. Two other newsies blocked the door with their bodies.

"Well you ain't so masculine, yaself!" she retorted, unable fight with fists, she would hit him with words instead. He moved toward her again, but now noticed Racetrack in his way.

"Oh you mean, Jack Kelly," Racetrack's voice had lost it's usual humor. It was now cold and angry. "Yeah, he was here. But he put an egg in 'is shoe an'. . . beat it." The other boys started laughing and Al smiled. She could tell by Racetrack's posturing that he was likely carrying a smirk of his own.

Kloppman acted put out and told Snyder he'd have to look at his files, keeping them distracted long enough for Al to get out of the room and onto the street. Mush and Blink were pushing out Jack seconds later.

"Yous two had bettah lay low tonight," Blink said. "You don't know what this guy could 'ave up 'is sleeve."

"We'll see ya tomorrow, boys," Al answered for her brother. "And tell Race thanks from me."

They chorused their goodbye as Al and Jack walked way, the latter looking seriously angry. It wasn't until they were definitely out of earshot that her brother exploded.

"Comin' into _my_ house an' running me out! An' hittin' my sistah like she's some sorta punchin' bag!" he yelled, fuming. "If Snyder thinks 'e can mess aroun' with my boys like that, 'e's got anothah thing comin' to 'im!"

"Calm down, Jack," Al said, finally having calmed herself down. "It ain't like I can't fight back." Sure, she was mad that Snyder had slapped her, especially since the second one had been backhanded, but she could have dished it right back to him if Racetrack and Itey hadn't stopped her.

"That's the problem. Yous can't!" Jack was heeding her advice and calming down, but slowly. "If you'da touched him, he'd o' had you in the Refuge by the end o' the hour. He wanted you an' somma the other boys to fight 'im. If people was gettin' thrown in jail 'cause o' me, he knows it'd get to me. 'Specially if he knew they was my boys."

She pondered the idea and it made sense. Snyder would pull something that underhanded- just like he would have used her for bait if he had caught her when she tried to save Crutchy.

"How did he find out where we live?" she asked after a few moments of walking.

"Prolly seen us in the papes an' saw our names, then asked a newsie who didn't know 'im," Jack guessed. "Only reason 'e was stupid enough not to realize you was yaself is 'cause ya hair was down an' coverin' the shinah on ya chin in the picture. An' he prolly wasn't 'specting you to be dressed like a boy or even livin' at the Lodge."

"Then why would he go there?"

"Like I said, rile up m'boys an' he mighta thought I'd live there too," Jack shrugged.

Al growled under her breath and pulled out a cigarette. They were cheaper than bread and helped to ease the hunger, especially at night. Like most newsies, Jack and Al rarely ate more than one meal a day. Unless you counted the infrequent nuns that liked to feed them a bit of bread and some water a couple of times a week. The newsies were always grateful, even if they did sing a little too loud for the early hours in Al's opinion.

Thankful for the distraction it gave her from the aching of her stomach, she handed it to her brother to share. He accepted it gratefully.

"So where are we sleepin' tonight?" she asked. It was too late to crash at Medda's now, because walking all the way across Manhattan after dark was only acceptable in groups of four or more. Preferably five or six. Sometimes, when they were lucky, Jack could find a rooftop where they were relatively safe, but it usually involved going through a boarding house and most public buildings had closed by now.

She must have spent more time working on those banners than she had realized.

"I was thinkin' we could sleep outside o' Davy's house on the fire escape," he answered. "It oughta be pretty safe there."

She smiled at the idea. He was right. It would be alot safer than sleeping in an alley and if the bulls came around asking questions, the Jacobs could vouch that the two were friends and not trespassing.

"That's a good idea. I like it," she decided out loud.

"Aren't all my ideas?"

"That's a trick question, right?" she scoffed. He laughed as they passed a rowdy bar that was just getting into the swing of things. It nearly drowned out the sound of his voice.

"So tell me about Medda's. How'd the talk go?" he asked when they had passed the bar and he no longer had to shout for her to hear him. She explained all the things Medda had planned for them. The woman really wanted to go over the top for Jack and Al's friends and it was much too sweet of her. Medda was one of the most generous people they knew, which wasn't exactly saying much considering the fact that most people they knew were either stingy or had nothing to give, but the point still stood. Al and Jack had always tried to follow her example in giving, though, and the Manhattan newsies were starting to follow their lead in the same way.

She went on to explain how Medda nearly talked until Al thought she was going to die from boredom until David said they needed to get going. She even told her brother about Medda's larking about how cute the two would be together and how embarrassed they had been at her attentions.

Jack narrowed his eyes in speculation, "You an' Davy, huh?"

"No, not 'Me an' Davy'." Al gave him a pointed look. "I told you that's what _Medda_ said."

He continued on regardless, "I s'pose I could see yous two bein' sweet on each othah."

Al scoffed and was glad he couldn't see the heat rising to her face in the darkened street.

"In fact, I don't think I'd mind too much, eithah," Jack continued. "If he asked ya to be his goil. As long as 'e wasn't tryin' to make a move on ya or nothin'. You could even borrow some o' Sarah's clothes if ya went out togethah."

"Shaddup, Jack." Al glared. "Ya need to stop playin' match-makah, 'cause you ain't very good at it. 'Sides you got things with Sarah to worry 'bout."

He grinned sheepishly as she raised her eyebrows at him. "Ya think I got a chance with 'er?"

"I think you got a chance with anybody ya put ya mind to." Al laughed and winked at him. "An' I like 'er, so I won't go runnin' 'er off or nothin'."

"Since when 'ave you run a goil off for me?"

"Since when have ya had a goil fah me to run off?"

He narrowed his eyes at her and she laughed; her brother joined in after a second or two. They reached the fire escape that led to the Jacobs' apartment at that point. Jack jumped up and pulled down the ladder.

"Aftah you, doll." He bowed and waved his hand with a flourish. Al laughed and rolled her eyes before going up. The Jacobs' lived on the fifth floor, only one apartment away from the roof and Al headed straight there as Jack pulled the ladder back up.

She settled down a little beneath Sarah's window, which was surprisingly open, and put a finger over her lips the moment Jack came up. They didn't want to wake up the Jacobs'. They would likely make them come inside and neither wanted to inconvenience their family. Jack stifled a yawn and laid back on the small platform between sets of stairs with his hands under his head as he looked up at the sky.

Al took her hat off and pulled out the rubber band so her hair could hang loose for once. Besides, it would be good for keeping her a little warmer tonight. While summers in New York City were stifling, summer nights were generally much cooler than during the day. They weren't too bad, though. Anyway, if she was going to have to sleep outside and didn't have to worry about thugs messing with them in the middle of the night (or getting arrested for trespassing), then she was going to allow herself the freedom to let her hair hang loose while she slept.

Jack looked at her and patted his stomach. Al smiled and accepted his silent offer to use it as a pillow. She laid back and looked up at the two stars she could see between the buildings, wondering how many they would be able to see when Jack dragged her out to Santa Fe.

"Goodnight, Ali," Jack whispered.

"G'night, Jack." He started combing his fingers absently through her hair and the feeling made her eyelids droop drowsily.

She drifted off thinking about what Jack said about her and David. Could he really see that happening? And why did the prospect make her feel so. . . giddy?

**_Disclaimer: Shifty, Runner, Salamander, Matches, Red, Chess, Checkers, Payphone, and Quick Fists MacIntosh are all property of Kirsten Erin (me), so no stealin' 'em. :P_**


	18. Not a Morning Person

_**Author's Note: I love it so much when characters get a mind of their own and start writing the story for me. That's basically what happened with this chapter, especially toward the end. It just happened. Mmm. . . this is a satisfying moment. :P  
>For those reviewers who didn't get virtual slingshots in the last chapter, I reward you with your own now. For those who reviewed both times, here are a couple of extra shooters. Haha. Thank you Narniafan96, Rachel, LucyofNarnia, Ealasaid Una, and Austra for your heart-warming reviews. Y'all are awesome!<strong>_

**Chapter 18- Not a Morning Person**

_Yeah baby, don't get so disappointed_

_I am not what you anticipated_

_~Later On: Kate Nash~_

"Did you sleep out there all night?"

Al woke to the sound of Sarah's half-amused, half-concerned voice. Jack's hand was laying on top of her face with a clump of knotted hair between each of his fingers. Al moaned and swiped it off her, then winced as she sat up and pain shot through her chest. She was starting to get used to the pain when she moved, but that didn't stop it from being irritating.

"What time is it?" she grumbled.

"You still have another hour before you have to leave here to head to the Distribution Center," Sarah answered. "Are those bruises new or from the thugs the other day?"

"The thugs," Al answered, then let Sarah's words register. "If I don't have to be up for at least anothah half hour, I'm goin' back to sleep." She made to lay back down.

"Wanna sleep in my room?" Sarah laughed.

Al hesitated. "Naw, I don't wanna doity up ya bed."

"It's fine," she insisted. "I'm up anyway and it's laundry day so the sheets'll be going in the wash regardless."

Al thought about it and decided it was a good idea. She was exausted and everything hurt from laying there last night. Jack groaned as she started to stand.

"Mornin' already?"

"'Fraid so, Jacky." Al laughed. "Sarah's here."

Jack sat up, rimrod straight. He too winced at what she surmised was the pain in his own ribs.

"Heya, Sarah," he said, almost sheepishly as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Sarah says I can sleep in her bed 'til it's almost time to go. Will ya make sure I'm awake at least fifteen minutes before we leave?"

"Yeah, sure thing."

Sarah stepped aside and Al climbed through her window by stepping on the railing and pulling herself up. Her window was beside the one that actually led out to the higher platform, so it was higher for her to reach than it's twin.

"Why didn't you wake us?" Sarah asked the two of them.

"Didn't wanna distoib ya," Jack shrugged.

If there was any more to the conversation, Al didn't hear it. Groggy as she was, she dropped into Sarah's bed and hardly had the time to pull the covers over herself before she fell asleep.

When she woke, it was to a different voice than before.

"Hey Sarah, you're gonna be late if you don't-" Al's eyes opened slowly and she saw David standing over her looking entirely confused. "Al?"

"Mornin' Davy," Al mumbled. "There a reason you're wakin' me up?"

David's face flushed red, "No, uh, I thought Sarah- where's my sister?"

She peered at the window and found that neither Jack or Sarah were on the fire escape. She did notice the other bed in the room now, where Les was tangled up in blankets. He and David must share a bed, she realized.

"I ain't got a clue, but she's prolly with Jack." Al swung her legs off the bed, glad she'd gotten the rest she did. "When do we gotta leave for the WDC?"

"About thirty minutes."

"They should be back in fifteen, then." Al stretched gingerly, careful to keep the pain to a minimum before standing.

"You can use Sarah's brush if you want," David said, waving to the brush on the small vanity across the room. Al sat in the chair before it and laughed at her reflection. Her hair was all mussed up and tangled in knots, sticking up in odd places.

"I look a mess," she chuckled. David moved to lean on the doorframe, so she could see him out of the corner of her eye while he watched her wrestle with her hair.

"So when did you get here? And why are you here in the first place?"

"Snyder came snoopin' 'round the Lodge for Jack and we made a run for it, afore he could recognize us. Idiot didn't even realize it was me, even though he told me I looked like Jack, only more feminine," Al said, making a scoffing noise in the back of her throat. She finished the rearrangement of her hair and stood. "Bastard still slapped me around a little. Nearly decked 'im, but Itey stopped me. Apparently, it woulda landed me in the Refuge." She said the last sentence in a mocking tone. The man deserved to get soaked more times than she could count. Maybe, unlike Oscar, it would do that thick skull of his some good.

"He hit you?" David asked, concerned.

"He slapped me twice." She saw his teeth grit and quickly added, "It's not a big deal. Race got 'tween us an' basically told 'im to get lost. He didn't know I was a goil, anyway." David seemed to relax and she was glad of it.

He gave her a toothbrush she could use and she brushed her teeth and washed her face in the washroom. When she came out, he was waiting for her at the table. Mrs. Jacobs was making breakfast and smiled when she saw Al.

"Good mornin', honey," she greeted, making Al feel the need to fidget. She resisted the urge. "David was just telling me you were here. Are you hungry?"

"A little," she conceded, sitting down beside her friend at the table by easing into her chair. His mother seemed to pick up on her slowed movements, because she commented on them next.

"Davy tells me you have two broken ribs from that fight the other morning. How are they feeling?"

"Sore," she chuckled. "But it ain't too bad. Only if I make sudden movements or breathe too deep."

"Any other injuries?" she worried, walking over with two plates. She set one before each of them and grabbed her own plate before sitting down. On her plate was a biscuit and a fist-sized portion of scrambled eggs. It made her stomach growl.

"Jus' a bunch o' bruises," Al answered. "Though ya son kept me from bein' strangled. Broke a club ovah the guy's head."

"David?" Mrs. Jacobs looked at her son with an expression of both surprise and worry, but Al thought she detected at least a hint of pride.

"He coulda killed 'er, Momma. What was I supposed to do?" David answered around a mouthful of eggs. He didn't seem upset this time, but Al flushed red. She probably wasn't supposed to say anything. She wasn't used to dealing with parents- how was she supposed to know?

"No, no. I'm glad you helped," Mrs. Jacobs amended quickly, then turned to Al, who was struggling to keep herself from shoveling the eggs into her mouth. Instead, she ate slowly and savored the flavor. She was almost entirely certain that she had eaten eggs for breakfast maybe six times in her entire life. David's mother reached her hand across the table and put it on Al's shoulder, commanding her attention. "I wanted to apologize for what my husband and I were saying the other day. We're not used to our son getting in fights and it was hard for us, but that's no excuse for what we said. Will you forgive us?"

Al was so taken aback that she didn't answer. She just sat there, looking at Mrs. Jacobs with wide, confused eyes. It wasn't until David nudged her with his foot that she realized she hadn't responded.

"Oh, of course. I knew ya was jus' worried," she said awkwardly, trying to keep herself from blushing again. It seemed to be a common occurence as of late. "An' I'm sorry trouble follows us around. 'Cause you were prolly right about that one." If this woman thought she owed them an apology, then Al at least owed her a concession. It was the truth. The Kelly siblings catching a break was like a plant catching a cold. It never happened.

Mrs. Jacobs laughed. "Then I'm glad David's there to help you out of those situations. He's a good boy." She gave her son a pointed look and he gave a good-natured roll of his eyes.

The three of them talked for a bit until Mrs. Jacobs left to wake Les. That's when David spat out a question it looked like he had been waiting a while to ask.

"You don't really wanna go to Santa Fe, do you?" He eyed her as she tried to formulate an answer.

She looked over her shoulder to make sure Jack hadn't come in without her noticing.

"No, not really. But it's not like I have a choice." She looked away and shoved another forkful of eggs into her mouth.

"Of course you-"

"No, actually I don't," she cut him off angrily, surprised she hadn't choked when she swallowed without having hardly chewed."I ain't lettin' my bruddah cross the country without me! It's 'is dream, David, an' it means the woild to him!"

Al calmed down long enough to notice David's astonished expression. She covered her face with her hand and huffed out a breath as she dropped the hand on the table.

"Sorry. I'm not a mornin' person." she mumbled.

"I'm sorry too." He reached out and placed his hand on top of hers, giving it a gentle squeeze without even taking his eyes off of her. He still looked concerned. "I didn't realize it was such a sensitive subject for you. You know I'm here for you if ya wanna talk, right? You can tell me anything."

She looked at him with sad eyes, "Don't I wish that were true." She realized too late that her response shouldn't have been said aloud.

Just then Jack came in carrying a basket, Sarah trailing shortly behind him. Al and David jerked their hands away from each other, but she could still feel his eyes boring into her skull, questions practically being relayed telepathically to her.

"Good. You're up. That'll save me a bruise or two," Jack said, looking at his sister and chuckling at his own supposed wit. "An' it looks like ya ate, so that saves me from feelin' guilty 'bout eatin' with Sarah." He sent a winning smile in Sarah's direction and her nose crinkled as she grinned back while taking the basket from him.

"Yeah, David woke me up thinking I was Sarah," she said, plastering on a winning smile, even though she could still feel her friend's eyes on her. If there was anything Al was, it was a good liar. She'd done it for years and she had gained one hell of a poker face. The statement itself wasn't the lie, of course. The lie was the assumption that everything was fine and dandy and David wasn't getting suspicious.

Jack laughed loudly. "Nice goin' there, Davy."

"Yeah," was his only response.

"You alright there? Ya look a little distracted." Jack said. David jerked his head to look at him.

"Oh no, I'm fine. Just thinking about something I was a little _confused_ about." The inflection almost made Al cringe. She stood, scraping her chair against the floor as she did and cutting off whatever response her brother was about to make.

"You boys ready to head out?"

The walk to the World Distribution Center was an awkward one. Jack, of course, didn't notice. He was always happy to fill the lull in conversation with his never-ending chatter about Santa Fe and how they were going to put Pulitzer in his place with this strike. Meanwhile, Les trailed behind them, thrusting his sword at anything he deemed a worthy opponent.

Al knew she had hurt David, but what could she do about it? She couldn't change her response now. She couldn't win and had to resign herself to that. She hoped he would realize that it wasn't anything against him. She just couldn't talk to him about, well, most of her life. Jack would murder her if she brought up their past and it wasn't like she wanted to share her secrets either. Secrets were secrets because you held them close to you. You didn't just go around telling them to everyone you came in contact with. She and Jack had chosen together to start anew and hide the people they had once been.

Apparently he wasn't going to get it without someone telling him. They were almost to their destination when he pulled her back by the arm and asked Jack to go on without them. Jack saw Al yank her arm from David and quirked an eyebrow. She clenched her jaw and nodded, letting her brother know he could go on without them. He shrugged and walked over to the crowd of boys near the gate with Les in tow.

David just looked at her with a scrutinizing gaze that would normally make her want to fidget, because it told her he was trying to see into her soul. Right now, it was only serving to irritate her. Seriously, hadn't David heard her when she said she wasn't a morning person? She could have sworn she'd said that out loud.

"What?" she finally snapped.

"What aren't you telling me?" he queried.

_Oh, so many things,_ she thought morosely. But honestly? What kind of question was that?

"You's gonna have to be more specific," she drawled, fixing him with a condescending glare and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Okay, why are you getting all defensive now?" He threw up his arms in exasperation. "You seemed upset. I'm your friend. I want to help."

"I'm not being defensive," she growled. "And you can't help. It's not a big deal anyway. I don't wanna talk about it."

"You seem pretty irritated for it not being a big deal." He was crossing his arms over his chest and staring her down with disbelief now.

"Well maybe I wouldn't be so irritated if you would stop bein' so irritatin'," she hissed.

David regarded her silently for a few seconds before trying a different approach. "Why did you say you couldn't talk to me? Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you," she admitted, despite the overwhelming urge she was harboring to smack him.

"Then what's the problem?" He waved his hands again in frustration. "You say you trust me, but you can't talk to me?"

"God, would you just drop it?" Her volume raised in irritation.

"Not until I understand!" His volume raised in response to hers.

"You can't always understand everythin', David! Sometimes ya have to leave things be! Sometimes it's none of ya business!" Al retorted furiously. "In ya poifect world where everythin's fine an' dandy, you don't needa keep secrets! On the streets, we do! Newsies keep more secrets than you could evah imagine! Give us that much; we ain't go nothin' else!"

With that final word, Al stormed off, leaving David standing angry and dumbfounded in her wake. She knew both he and the boys on the other side of the statue were watching her go. She knew that she and David's yelling match had probably drawn more than a little attention and they now watched her 'dramatic exit' with more than a little curiosity.

She didn't care. She would leave David to answer any questions about what was going on. They could handle the strike without her today. They didn't need her there and she sure as hell wasn't going to show up. She needed away from Jack and David and the rest of them right now. She needed some time alone.

She yanked a cigarette out of her pocket and stopped long enough to light it up before continuing in her angry march and losing herself in the crowded Manhattan streets.

"I am so _not_ a mornin' person."


	19. It'll Take the Edge Off

_**Author's Note: A new chapter? An entire day early? Here's why- in case you haven't noticed, I've been updating roughly every other day. But this weekend, my family is visiting the castle where **_**Ever After_ was filmed in the south of France. I don't know if we'll have internet connection there or not. So I decided to give you a chapter early, in case I can't upload tomorrow. :)  
>A thousand thank you's and kisses to the last chapter's reviewers- Austra, Ealasaid Una, Narniafan96, and LucyofNarnia. :D <em>**

**Chapter 19- It'll Take the Edge Off**

_Here comes the rain again  
><em>_Fallin' from the stars  
><em>_Drenched in my pain again  
><em>_Becoming who we are  
><em>_~When September Ends: Green Day~_

Al let her feet carry her where they would and eventually found herself in Central Park. She wasn't sure why she was here, but shrugged it away, lighting up another cigarette seconds after she finished her first one.

She fumed internally and half expected a trail of fire to follow her as she walked around the park, oblivious to the scenery and people that usually drew her attention. She generally enjoyed both nature and people watching, but was too immersed in her own inner battle to give credence to any of it.

David needed to learn that he couldn't just go around demanding answers and trying to be Mr. Know-it-All. He needed a poignant lesson in leaving things where they lay. He needed a good smack upside that thick head of his.

She dropped down beside a tree and pushed her back up against it, propping her elbow up on one drawn up knee and letting the other stretch out in front of her. Her cigarette dangled above her thigh as she sat, cotemplating her argument with David.

She realized with gnawing dread that she had overreacted. David was just trying to be a friend. With a few well-placed lies and half-truths, with a convincingly fake smile, she could have averted the entire argument.

But that was just it, wasn't it? She was tired of lying. She was tired of wondering if he would catch on to the fact that her parents had been in Santa Fe for at least ten years. She was tired of pretending like everything was peachy when she really felt like she was trapped in a web of lies and the spider was only inches away, ready to suck the lifeblood straight from her deceitful lips. She shivered under the warm summer sun, even as sweat started to bead on the back of her neck.

How she longed for a life simpler than this one. How she longed for a home to call her own and a place where she didn't have to live in fear of losing the only one she had at the drop of a hat- literally. Al longed for the ability to just be herself and have someone else know what that looked like. It frustrated her to no end and threatened to drive her crazy if she thought about it for too long; so she didn't.

She closed her eyes and calmed her breathing the way she did when she was laying in bed having trouble sleeping. She imagined every breath in was the tide coming up to meet her and every breath out was it rushing out into the ocean. She timed her breathing with what she imagined the ocean's tempo would be, refusing to think of anything beyond it.

"I'd think you'd know bettah than to leave ya guard down, Cap."

The voice started her and she almost dropped her cigarette.

"God, Race! What's wrong with ya?" She clutched at her chest as if it would help calm her racing heart.

"Well, I was gonna share this bottle o' beer with ya, but if ya don't want it. . ." He made to walk away and she rolled her eyes fondly. She didn't bother to call him back because she didn't need to. He spun back around and plopped down beside her, handing her the bottle.

"Ladies foist," he grinned, cigar hanging prominently from his mouth. She laughed an took a swig, relishing the slight burn of alcohol as she swallowed.

"Tell me you didn't spend your food money on this."

He gave her a look that said she was stupid and she shrugged, admitting he was right with a defeated smirk. Of course he'd stolen it. This was Racetrack, after all.

She took another swig of the amber liquid before handing it back to her friend.

"Ya wanna talk about it?" he asked, non-chalantly.

She growled under her breath at the question. Really? Hadn't she made it clear in her argument with David that she _couldn't_ talk about it, nor did she want to. She knew he had to have heard the details of the conversation they'd had.

Why did everyone suddenly subscribe to the idea that talking made things better, anyway? It didn't. All it did was make one's thoughts more clear and concise. Her thoughts were clear enough. In fact, having them a little more jumbled would probably do more good than bad.

Racetrack studied her with an almost amused air. "Here, it's supposed to take the edge off," he mocked playfully.

She rolled her eyes at him, but did as he suggested.

She put out her half-smoked cigarette and waited for it to stop smoldering before putting it back in her pocket. Racetrack grabbed the bottle out of her hand again and took a long draught. The two sat and talked together for nearly an hour, Racetrack informing her of his luck at the races. Jack had warned him not to go gambling during the strike and the newsie had reluctantly obeyed, but it didn't keep him from following the goings-on of the gambling world. It was like a terrible itch that he never could quite scratch. Al was certain it was going to come back and bite him in the rear one day and had told him so on more than one occasion.

The conversation had then taken a turn to memories- and not the ones from their past that haunted them when they least expected it. No, these were happy memories. Stories that had them both laughing loud enough to draw attention from other visitors to the park, who shot the two newsies disgusted looks. Those looks had never stopped them from having a good time before and they weren't about to do so now.

Al wiped the tears from her eyes as she laughed, barely able to continue the story.

"An' Skittery was so mad, but Jack jus' stood there- grinnin' as usual."

"I remembah that!" Racetrack hooted, smile wide. "I thought fah sure he was gonna soak 'im."

He and Al finished laughing and the latter finally stood, dusting off the back of her breeches before turning to her friend.

"Thanks, Race," she smiled. "For the beer an' for the conversation. I feel like I haven't gotten the chance to talk about anythin' 'sides the strike in ages."

"Me neithah," he responded, not bothering to stand. "Take care o' yourself, doll. I'll see ya tonight?"

She nodded good-naturedly and headed out of the park. She was almost out of range when she heard Race call out to her. She turned around to see what he wanted.

"David needed to know he couldn't go pryin' intah our lives without our permission. He was gonna have to hear it soonah or latah," he said, a knowing look in his eye.

"Yeah," she conceded. "But I handled it wrong. He didn't desoive that."

With that, she headed back to the Lodge. She checked on the boys, glad that most of them were getting to the stages of restlessness. That meant that they were feeling better than before at least. Kloppman had told most of them that they were free to go, with the exception of Snipeshooter and Runner. The former was still under orders of bedrest, which didn't mean he wasn't going to pester Dutchy and Specs all day, apparently. They were the two who had stayed behind today to keep an eye on the bedridden. Snipe quieted down when they started playing cards.

Runner, however, was anxious to go outside. He didn't see why he couldn't leave and finally Al agreed to take him out, since Kloppman's only real concern was that he would do something stupid and mess up his stitches or something.

"Thanks, Cap!" Runner cried for nearly the seventh time since they'd left the Lodge. They weren't even to the end of the street yet.

"It's no big deal, kid." Al answered, not able to contain the small grin that blossomed on her face.

"So what's been happenin'? Any more fights?" he swung his fist like he was connecting it with an opponent's face and her grin grew to a full-fledged smile.

"Naw, the scabbahs is too scared of us to fight much now," she answered. "Where are we goin' anyways?"

"I wanna go play with Les!" he said, excitedly. Al felt her heart sink.

"Maybe that ain't such a good idea, Runner. You's gotta be careful with them stitches o' yours." She motioned at his head, which was currently wrapped with white cloth that wound around his head like a headband. It was almost comical, but she could find no humor in it. It only reminded her of how hard this poor kid's life had been up to this point.

"But-"

"Don't argue with me. Yous don't need to be swordfightin' today," she scolded firmly. "Hows about I take ya to the docks an' I'll tell you a story, 'kay? Long as ya promise not to jump in."

"I promise!"

They did just as she proposed, heading down the the docks on this side of the river and looking across it toward Brooklyn as she told a story about a prince with a pet dragon who fought against an evil king and won when his dragon ate the king.

Al could admit without any arm-twisting that she was a horrible storyteller, but Runner always seemed to enjoy her tales anyway. He laid his head down in her lap and listened until his eyes drifted closed. She twisted his hair between her fingers as he dozed, fondly regarding the boy.

"I was hoping I'd find you." David's voice behind her almost made Al jump. She didn't answer, but listened as his footsteps quietly clopped toward her and he sat on her left, since Runner was occupying the space near her right leg with his sprawled out body.

"Where's Les?" she asked after a moment.

"I left 'im with Jack," David answered. She could see him looking at her and refused to return his gaze, keeping her eyes on the boy in her lap. "How are his stitches healing?"

"Well enough," she answered quietly. "He was beggin' to be let out of the Lodge, so I volunteered to take him and he'd keep 'im outta trouble."

"Good thinking," David nodded, then turned to look toward Brooklyn.

"Look, David, I'm real sorry 'bout this morning." She bit her lip and still didn't look up. "I told ya, I'm not a mornin' person an' I blew things outta proportion that I shouldn't have."

"I didn't mean to upset you and I should've backed off when you asked me to," David said, heartfelt in a way that made Al want to burst into tears. "I just. . . I want you to know that I'm here for you. You can trust me."

"I know that," she responded, finally looking at him. "I do."

A grin spread across his face, "Good."

The rest of the day was spent striking outside of the World Distribution Center with their newly-made picket signs and banners, keeping obnoxious newsies from murdering each other out of sheer boredom, and figuring out who needed lodging or food.

Al bathed in one of the tubs that Blink helped her push into the closet, as was her usual custom. He stood guard outside the door, making sure none of the boys accidentally walked in on her, and she washed under the flickering bulb that hung from the ceiling.

When she finished, she had to maneuver around the tin tub to wrap her ribs again, then pull her clothes on. She thanked Blink for his help and drained the tub before crawling into her bed, trying not to get her brain into gear. She didn't want to be up all night thinking about the strike or Santa Fe. She just wanted to get a night's rest that didn't include sleeping on a fire escape for the majority of it.

She fell asleep, but woke a few hours later to the sound of sniffling. This wasn't entirely uncommon. Al was a light sleeper and most newsies had hard lives. They had nightmares and woke up crying and, most of the time, it was better to let them be. Every once in a while, though, Al would go over to check on them, but only if the she thought it necessary.

The distinct impression that this sniffling was coming from someone under the age of twelve had Al sliding out of her bed seconds later. Sure enough, she found that Runner was the one crying. She could see the alligator tears soaking his pillow through the lamplight that streamed in the window.

Gently, she sat down next to him.

"What's wrong, honey?" she asked, reaching over and rubbing circles on the boys back. He looked up at her with another loud sniffle.

"I had a nightmare," he answered, bottom lip trembling as he whispered. He lurched up and wrapped his arm around her middle, nuzzling his head into her stomach. She gathered him into her arms, heart breaking for the child.

"You wanna tell me about it?"

He answered by nodding into her belly. He looked up to tell her and only burst into more tears, his sobs racking his shoulders as he buried his face back into her stomach and cried miserably.

"Shh. Shh. It's okay, honey," she soothed, trying not to let her voice crack. Darn her emotions- getting the best of her in her half-awake state. "You're safe. It's ovah."

Finally, he calmed long enough to take a shaky breath and sit up, eyes wide with sorrow. Al found herself wanting to kill whoever put it there. No child should have to go through what this kid had endured. Sure, she had been just as screwed up at his age. . . hell, half the kids in this room had been just as screwed up when they were that young. That still didn't make it okay.

"I was d-dreamin' 'bout when the men came to hoit me an' Momma," he blubbered. "When they h-hoit her an' k-killed 'er. Only, this time they f-f-found me an' they was gonna k-kill me too."

"Oh, honey." She felt the tears spilling down her face now. She knew enough of Runner's past to understand what he was referring to. He was too young to understand why others concealed their own pasts and had told her almost immediately upon his arrival at the Lodge.

His mother had been a whore in Queens who had gotten pregnant and run from her pimp to Manhattan to keep the baby. She continued selling herself in Manhattan once the baby was born, making sure he was always in another room. Finally, her old pimp found her and made quick work of her. They didn't know about Runner, though, so he stayed hidden until they left. That's when he ran.

"They ain't nevah gonna hoit ya, ya hear?" She cupped his face in her hands so he could see her. "Jacky an' I'll nevah let them so much as touch you, alright?"

He nodded and she could tell he was calming down.

"Now lay back down an' I'll lay here with ya until ya fall asleep, okay?" He settled down and she wrapped an arm around him, laying her head on the pillow beside his. His tremors finally started to still and his breathing slowly deepened until he was fast asleep.

Al found herself unable to move. Overcome by drowsiness, she fell asleep beside him, one leg hanging off the side of the bed and her arm still around his middle.

_**A/N: I have been nominated by LucyofNarnia for the **_**Newsies "Summer Reading" Fanfiction Awards_ and I'm super excited about it. I've never been nominated for a FF award and I won't embarrass myself by talking about how I squealed like a five year-old.  
>So if y'all want to nominate my story for any of the categories on the site, you can do that until Sept. 24th and voting is open from Sept. 25th-Oct. 2nd. Check out the rest of the information on the awards site, the URL's at the bottom of this page or you can go to the link on my profile. Thanks in advance!<em>**

**_ http : / / pegm. webs. com/ about. html_**


	20. Small Sentinel

_**Author's Note: Just got back from a weekend of road-tripping it in the south of France with my family. I love my family and all, but that was crazy, and though we had some good times- I'm so glad to be back and not stuck in a car with my family all day. There was SO MUCH FIGHTING. . Anyway, I'm back in my own bed in my own room now and happy to be putting up the newest chapter!  
>A thousand thanks to Austra, LC, Ealasaid Una, sorrowhopefaith, and mysterygirl reviews for your wonderful reviews! :) <strong>_

**Chapter 20- Small Sentinel**

_Go on while no one's looking  
><em>_Aha!  
><em>_Caught you now  
><em>_Caught red-handed in the biscuit tin  
><em>_'Cause you do keep me quiet  
><em>_~Aha!: Imogen Heap~_

Al muttered a string of curses under her breath as she paced beneath the Horace Greely statue. Her fingers trembled and she started to fumble with her pocket before Mush held his already lit cigarette out to her. She sent him a shaky smile before returning to her former activity, now puffing away at the proffered smoke.

She knew she was making a spectacle of herself, but she could care less. People wondered why she wasn't a morning person. Well, what good thing ever happened in the waking hours of the day? That's right, _nothing_ good happened.

"It's not your fault," Jack was saying from where he watched her, sounding resigned. He knew better than to reason with her when she was in a state like this.

"Yes, yes it is," she answered without slowing. "How could I be so stupid?" And that was just it, wasn't it? She was stupid. She was so very, very stupid. She'd known there would be consequences if she slipped up. She'd known it, yet she screwed herself over anyway.

"What's going on?" David's voice pierced the crowd and she could tell he was pushing through to the front. She ignored him, like most of the crowd.

"You're not stupid, Al. It wasn't ya fault." Jack was answering back again. The only reason he was still standing in the crowd was because she'd taken a swing at him when he had tried to get her to sit down. If he told her it wasn't her fault one more time, she was going to make another swing and this one was going to connect with his jaw.

"What's wrong? What happened?" David asked again. She glanced his way and saw that he was now at the forefront of her spectators, between Racetrack and Jack. She turned away and continued wearing a rut into the ground beneath her.

"Kloppman found 'er out." Blink answered. "Kicked Cap out an' might as well have done the same fah Cowboy."

"Al?" he called to her.

"Don't talk to me, Davy. Not right now." Her mind was working ninety miles a minute. There had to be something she could do to change this. No, there was nothing that would reverse Kloppman finding her out, but what would they do now? They couldn't sleep on the streets for the rest of their lives, could they? They had no money for a boarding house, though. . . She growled in frustration.

"Everybody back off. Give 'er some room." A familiar high-pitched yet male voice broke through the crowd and Al fought a smile against her inner angst. Les emerged from the crowd and took her hand. "I said, give 'er some room."

For some reason they listened, maybe because it worked so well last time, and most of the boys scattered. Al guessed it was probably also because he was the first person who had approached her that she hadn't tried to knock out. He led her to the base of the Greely statue and motioned for her to sit down. She did as she was directed.

Unlike either of his older siblings, he didn't ask a plethora of questions as they would have. He just sat beside her like a small sentinel while she closed her eyes and smoked, knees drawn up to her chest. For the next ten or so minutes, Les sat there guarding her. If anyone tried to approach her or even tried to speak to her, he would dutifully shoo them away.

Finally, she had collected herself and planted a kiss on Les's newsboy cap.

"Thanks, sweetheart," she smiled. "I needed that."

His big brown eyes searched her dark green ones as he looked up, "You okay now?"

"I will be now." She smiled again and couldn't resist pulling the kid into a hug and dropping another kiss on his head before he ran off to play with his friends.

She didn't move. She didn't have to. David and Jack were approaching now, both with more than a little concern on their faces. Her brother walked slightly behind their friend, as if using him for a shield.

"I'm not gonna hit ya, Jacky," she laughed, half-heartedly. Jack's chin went up and he scoffed indignantly, trying to pretend he hadn't been lurking behind David for protection. They sat down on either side of her.

"I can have Jack tell me instead if-" David tried to say.

"Runner had a nightmare last night," Al cut in. "I woke up and calmed him down, promisin' to lay there with 'im 'til 'e fell asleep. Only, I fell asleep when he did. Kloppman found me there an' nearly had a heart attack. I'm lucky he gave me time to get dressed."

"Wow, I'm sorry. Do you need a place to stay?"

"We ain't gonna put ya family out, David," Jack answered this time with exactly what Al was thinking. "Come on, we need to get movin'. It's time for the strike." Jack pushed himself off the ground and helped his sister and friend up.

It wasn't long before they were into the swing of things, the whole group picketing and yelling as they stood outside of the World Distribution Center. Jack was standing on the statue yelling out extra motivational mumbo jumbo that made the boys even more rowdy and excited. A few of the more stubborn/traitorous newsies tried to sell their papers again, but Jack sent a couple of the guys to soak them, much to David's chagrin.

It was well after lunch that the group scattered. Jack told David to go get lunch, but the teen refused, by now having caught on to the fact that most of his friends ate one or two meals per day, including the 'breakfast' they received from the nuns. He clearly didn't want to eat when his friends couldn't. He claimed he wasn't hungry, but the rumbling of his stomach said otherwise and only made it harder for Al to keep herself from chuckling at him.

She and David finally received their chance to read the newspaper clipping about their strike and both decided they definitely liked it. Denton had done a terrific job portraying their situation and making it identify with the public. Al especially enjoyed his outrage at children being attacked by men with chains, knives, and clubs. He let it bleed through the pages.

He even included, on the inside of the article, the picture of the boys sprawled throughout the Lodge. She could see herself stitching up one of the boys near the back with David hovering behind her and Jack calming one of the younger boys closer to the front of it.

Jack told them the boys were planning on hanging the article in the the front room now that they didn't have to worry about Kloppman finding out about her. She smiled at the fact. They ought to be proud of their accomplishment and they were.

Just before nightfall and David's departure home, one of the younger boys, Listener, offered them each a wad of newspaper he had stolen from the WDC after the last raid they had done. David declined, but both Jack and Al accepted, nearly choking on their paper when they saw the entirely confused look on their friend's face as they ate theirs.

"Wha'?" Jack tried to ask around the wad. His sister threw him a disgusted look and elbowed him for talking with his mouth full.

David answered his question anyway, "Is there a reason you're eating it?"

"Well 'e didn't give them to us to decorate the alleys with," Al answered with a laugh when she had swallowed hers. "It's 'cause we ain't eatin' today. Haven't ya evah hoid of the newsies eatin' what they don't sell?"

"I always thought it was just an expression."

"Yeah, well, that's our food money that gets wasted, so's we put it to good use by eatin' it," she responded with a shrug. She knew it probably wasn't healthy to eat ink-stained paper, but then again, neither was starving. It at least took the edge off of their hunger and she was thankful for whoever had first decided it was a good idea.

David quelled his urge to invite them to dinner. It was all over his face, but their denial was all over theirs. As they had reminded him earlier, the two of them may be on the streets, but his family wasn't exactly doing so great themselves. They were struggling with the lack of income as well, even with Sarah selling the things she sewed and knitted when she wasn't working. They already had five mouths to feed without trying to fill two more, especially ones more accustomed to hunger than themselves.

He headed home not long afterward. Jack and Al sought refuge in an alley not far from the Lodge, knowing that if something were to happen, the boys wouldn't be too far for help.

Al made sure her hair was tucked up securely into her cap before snuggling up behind her brother and under the blanket Kloppman had generously given them. She lay there with her back to the wall and her front to her brother, her head and feet guarded by crates and piles of discarded rubbish, praying that a rat wouldn't make an appearance.

If there was anything Al was more terrified of than rats, she had yet to discover it. All she knew was that if one decided to show it's beady little eyes or pointed nose, there would be no sleeping tonight. Worse, half of Manhattan would know where the Kelly siblings slept because of her very girly shrieking.

In fact, a rat was directly responsible for Kid Blink and Mush finding out she was a girl in the first place. They were the first besides Jack and Racetrack to know, because no one could scream like that and claim a shred of masculinity to their name. Sure, Mush had panicked too, but it was nothing compared to Al's reaction when the rat had hissed and lunged at them during their shortcut through an alleyway.

She barely supressed the shiver of disgust that rolled up her spine.

Al turned her mind toward her day in an attempt to keep herself laying down instead of running for higher ground. While Kloppman had thrown them out and she was now laying on her side in the middle of an alley fearing death by rats, she had to admit that the rest of her day hadn't been terrible. It hadn't been great, either, but she would survive.

Another chunk of their money had gone toward feeding the boys today, even though they hadn't eaten any themselves. The two siblings had brainstormed since dawn about how they were going to make it last. They hated to encroach on Medda's hospitality, but even that would be fair game if she were closer to the Lodge. As leader of both the Manhattan newsies and the strike itself, Jack was required to be nearby and it wouldn't do if he were living at the theatre.

With the remaining money tucked away in the side of her bra, Al couldn't help wondering what they would do when it ran out. Would they end up stealing for survival? That could only mean a faster ticket to the Refuge. While that would mean food (precious little, but enough to survive), it could also mean indefinte imprisonment. You could get away with pick-pocketing every once in a while around here, but the bulls would be on you faster than ink on a newsie if you made a habit of it.

Suddenly, New York City seemed like a much bleaker place than it had ever been before. Suddenly, she found herself longing for that wide open sky and a sun that was bigger than the one they saw here. Suddenly, she thought she could understand her brother's longing to leave.

Was it the fear of being trapped in this maze of dark alleyways and dirty streets for the rest of his life that spurred Jack into wanting something that had once appeared so outlandish in her mind? Was it the terrifying prospect of being locked back up in some dark cell where he'd never have his own space again that made him want to run like a bat out of hell?

Jack never talked about what his stay in the Refuge was like. He never mentioned why it was so terrible. Part of it was his fiercely independent streak, she knew that much. Didn't the same blood run through her veins? Didn't the same deep-seated need to rebel against those oppressing ones too weak to defend themselves stem from the same fount?

Just like she knew that was a large part, she also knew it wasn't all of it. Jack had never been a talker. . . not a real one. He just didn't shut down the way Al did. He didn't make it obvious. Instead, he diverted the conversation back to Santa Fe or whatever else didn't cut too deep or sting too much. He had a gift, but it was one she could see right through.

No, he'd been hurt in the Refuge. She'd deduced that much. She knew the scars on his body better than he probably did. When he came to her after- how long had he spent in prison? She couldn't remember now. She was too tired and the only answer she could come up with was 'eternity'. When he'd come back to her after that eternity in the Refuge, the scars on his back and the burns on his arms told her more than she wanted to know. She remembered the haunted look in his eye for his first six months of freedom. It was more than abuse. He was used to abuse and while being thrown back into it was more than he thought likely thought he could handle, she had finally realized what else it was.

He had seen others abused, maybe worse than he had been, and hadn't been able to do a thing about it.

Her mind's eye took her back to the day her mother had gone berserk on her. Al didn't remember what it was she had done wrong, if anything, but suddenly her mother was standing over her whipping around a leather belt like a crazed horse jockey. She didn't remember how old she had been, but Al knew she had been small. Too small to be taking this sort of a beating.

Jack had tried to stop her from hurting his baby sister, tried to stay between the furious mother and her vulnerable daughter, but she somehow managed to lock him in the closet. When she closed her eyes, she could still hear Jack's fist beating against the door as he screamed himself hoarse.

That was one of the worst beatings she had ever received from her parents; the third worst beating she had received in her lifetime. She remembered waking up with welts the size of walnuts littering her back, face, and arms. Her right eye was swollen shut and the skin on her eyelid scabbing over. Jack cried as he wiped the blood from her skin and she couldn't help noticing the bruises where his fists had hit the door in protest.

Al sighed and moved closer to her older brother. He was all she had left in this world. He was her most valuable possession. They could have all the money, the gold, and the jewels. Jack? He was hers and she would fight tooth and nail to keep him that way.

_**Disclaimer: Listener is mine all mine. :P**_


	21. Will it Hurt?

_**Author's Note: New chapter! Ya know, I think I look forward to updating as much as y'all do because I get to hear feedback on the chapters I so enjoyed writing! :) A million thanks to those who reviewed my last chapter: mysterygirl, Ealasaid Una, Austra, LC, and Mayarin. Your reviews make each chapter worth writing. :D**_

**Chapter 21- Will it Hurt?**

Al woke the next morning with a headache and a numb right arm. She pushed herself up with her left and waited until the feeling returned to it before she woke her brother. Her stomach gurgled from hunger and made her feel nauseous. She gagged once before biting her lip. There was no need to lose what precious little remained within her.

Jack stirred in response to her prodding and muttered incoherently.

"Would ya move your lousy rear?" She shoved him harder and he finally sat up with owlish eyes.

"What?"

"It's time to get movin'." She rolled her eyes and stood, wiping off the dirt from her clothes.

When Jack was finally cooperative, the two made their way over to the Lodge. Al sat on the stoop while she waited for her brother inside, until Kloppman finally came out and practically dragged her in.

When she looked at him as if he were crazy, he only smiled down at her sweetly.

"Just because I can't let you sleep here, doesn't mean I don't wanna see you 'round. You're welcome in the Lodge any time during the day," he explained. "I'm not mad at ya."

The admission came as a relief to the girl. She didn't want him to be upset with her for deceiving him, though she wouldn't have blamed him if he had been. She could have cost him the Lodge if she had been discovered by someone worth something in this town. Without thinking, she wrapped her arm around the man's middle and he returned the hug with a warm smile.

"You're always welcome around here, lass."

The rest of the day and the one following went much like the one before- with little resistance and much picketing. Harlem was having trouble with their boys defecting, but the boroughs were all progressing nicely as it was.

The day for the rally finally arrived and Al found herself bouncing on the balls of her feet any time she was found standing still. By the time she reached Sarah's house, she was a bundle of energy. David, Sarah, and even Racetrack had teamed up to convince Jack to let Al dress like a girl for the night. He hadn't been too keen on it, but the three and his sister finally showed him that it would be fine. Most of the newsies would be well aware of the fact that she was a girl now and the worst that could come of it was her having more trouble reining in the boys when she spoke. She argued that she had soaked enough of them that they would listen anyway.

He had finally acquiesced and now stood on the other side of her from David. Jack needed to borrow some sort of suit jacket so he looked more presentable, but David had a brown suit he intended to wear.

"Now don't pretty 'er up too much," Jack told Sarah as they entered the room she, David, and Les shared. He winked and she turned away, fighting a blush. "I don't wanna have to fight off boys from the both o' ya."

"Shaddup, Jack." Al rolled her eyes.

"Yes, well it's good we'll have David there too, then." Sarah poked Jack in the shoulder. "If you're not up to the challenge. . ."

"Hey!" Jack cried indignantly. "I am too-"

"Quit flirting, already!" David groaned. "Come on, Jack. Let's go see if Papa has any clothes you can borrow."

The two were gone a few minutes later, leaving the two girls alone in the bedroom.

"So what are you wearin'?" Al hedged after a few moments of silence. Sarah stirred and turned to her.

"I haven't decided yet," the older girl admitted. "I was thinking about my white and blue dress, though, and there's a hat to match." She pulled the offending articles of clothing from the closet David had just been perusing and laid them out on her bed. "What would you like to wear?"

Al blanched. "I don't know. I don't know much 'bout bein' girly."

"Oh, well, what about this?" She pulled out a pale blue dress with at least three layers of ruffles at the bottom and large puffy sleeves. Ruffles rimmed the collar to match the hem. Al cringed visibly. "Or not." Sarah laughed, shoving it back in her closet.

"Maybe somethin' a little _less_ girly," Al suggested. "An' with less ruffles." she added. She still wanted to be taken seriously at the rally, even if she wasn't dressed like a boy. That did not work with ruffles and she doubted she would enjoy the sensation of her neck being attacked by cloth all night.

After a bit of deliberation, the two came to rest on a dark tan, high-waisted skirt and a flowy white shirt. It was a favorite outfit of Sarah's and fit Al relatively well, even if the skirt was a little longer on the shorter girl. Al decided to keep her own dark leather shoes, though. Sarah's feet were at least a size and a half larger than her own.

"Now for hair," Sarah continued. "I was planning to curl mine. Would you like me to do the same with yours?"

"Will it hurt?" she asked, eyeing the iron on the small fireplace in the corner. She didn't like the idea of anything that had to be heated on coals (especially in the middle of summer) touching her head.

Sarah laughed. "No, it won't touch your head, just your hair."

"I s'pose if you're careful," Al answered, a little uncertain. "Will it look alright?"

"Oh, it'll look lovely." Sarah responded reassuringly. "Here, let me brush your hair."

Al shrugged and moved to the little vanity seat in front of David's older sister. Sarah pulled the younger girl's hair out of her cap and out of the little bun it had been in previously. Al closed her eyes in pleasure as Sarah pulled the brush through her hair, gently easing it through.

"Who cuts your hair usually?" she asked after a moment.

"Jack," Al answered, not bothering to open her eyes and just enjoying the feel of the brush in her hair. "Why?"

"Just wondering," Sarah answered. "It's a little uneven. Let me do it next time, alright?"

"Sure thing," Al smiled.

"So what's it like living in the Lodging House?" Sarah asked after a moment, reaching for the curling iron near the small fireplace. Al wished her friend didn't feel the need to curl either of their hair. It was already hot enough without the fireplace. At least the window was open, though.

"I don't live there anymore," Al answered honestly. "Kloppman found out I was a goil an' I got kicked out. He lets me come in the mornin', though, an' get dressed and washed."

Sarah opened her mouth to ask another question, then shut her mouth. Her face told Al that her mind was still working over the facts, though. Finally, she spoke. "Well, what _was_it like?"

"Smelly," Al answered without having to think about it. Sarah burst out laughing, making Al fear for her life, seeing as the curling iron was an inch from her face. "It was fun, though. Most o' them is like me bruddahs now."

"I can't imagine having more than two brothers." Sarah shook her head, smile shining anyway.

"They can be a handful, but I love 'em," Al said.

"Good," Sarah answered. About two finished curls later, she pressed her lips together and gave Al a knowing look. "Did you ever get a crush on any of them?"

Al burst out laughing this time.

"Yeah, when I was a kid, I was real sweet on Skittery." She chuckled at the memory. "'Course, he didn't know I was a goil then. I got over it aftah a while. 'e wasn't my type, ya know? In fact, none o' those boys are. Like I said, they's like my bruddahs now."

"What about David?" Al watched Sarah bite her lower lip in the mirror as she asked, trying to suppress a smile.

"What _about_ David?" Al asked.

"Is he your type?"

"Is Jack your type?" Al countered and Sarah blushed. "Don't worry, you're his," she shared, enjoying the bashfulness of the older girl.

The conversation lapsed as Sarah continued using the curling iron on the younger girl. Al became less and less terrified that her head was going to burn and more occupied with looping the ringlets around her finger. Sarah chastised her more than a few times, until Al decided to sit on her hands for the remainder of the time her hair was being done.

"What about when that time of month comes?"

"What?" Al jumped and the motion caused the iron to burn her ear. She jerked away and held a hand over the burnt patch of skin, scowling at the fact that the iron had bested her. "What are you talkin' 'bout?"

"I mean, what did you do when that time of month came around and you were living with the boys?"

"Oh," Al shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Well, I use rags like everyone else does. Jack helped me conceal it from the othah boys an' stuff."

Sarah's nose crinkled, "How?"

"He'd make up excuses about why I was in the bathroom so long an' stuff," she shrugged. "Medda was an even biggah help, though. I thought I was dyin' when it started. If it hadn't been for her, I woulda panicked."

Sarah laughed this time, fully amused at the prospect. "I'm sure that must have been terrifying."

"It was," Al smiled, but shuddered at the awkward memory. "What about you? What happened when you started?"

"Momma had already explained everything to me, so I was prepared. But David wasn't." At Al's confused look, she continued. "He found me washing the blood out of my nightgown a few years ago and thought I'd been stabbed or something. He interrogated me until I explained everything the him." She laughed again, loudly. "I've never seen him turn so red."

Al laughed with her. The mental image was just too much.

"There you go." Sarah finally finished the last curl. she pulled two back from the front of the girl's face and pinned them at the back of her head, so she wouldn't have to worry about getting hair in her face. For a girl who usually kept her hair up, she was appropriately intolerant of hair getting in her eyes.

Sarah had also had to fix the 'bangs' Jack had given her a while back so it didn't look like she was just a girl with tucked up hair. He had cut random whisps near the front of her face to hang above her eyebrows. Sarah had tried her best to make it look nice, clucking almost inaudibly as she cut more hair and finally made them swoop off to the side together. She didn't curl the shorter strands, leaving them to hang loosely.

The two continued to talk while Sarah reheated the iron and began putting powder on her face while they waited. Al watched with interest, never having put on makeup before. Well, not unless you counted the dirt she wore to make appearance more masculine.

She had watched Medda put on makeup more than a few times, but had always declined the woman's offers of a makeover. Not only did it look too flamboyant, but it looked almost painful. Sarah didn't go overboard with hers, though. She used powder, rouge, a light lipstick, and some sort of black stuff that darkened her lashes. When she was done with herself, she waved Al over. The younger girl hesitated.

"Come on, I won't poke your bruises or anything." Sarah rolled her eyes fondly.

Al huffed a sigh, causing a few of her bangs to puff up and drop back onto her forehead. She joined her friend at the vanity and Sarah immediately began powdering her face. The crinkling of Al's nose at the action only made the older girl laugh.

"Your bruises'll probably show through, but not as badly as before," Sarah said, taking extra time on Al's nearly healed shiners. "They're not as dark as they were a few days ago, so they won't be too noticeable."

Al didn't answer, too afraid she'd mess up her friend and get a jab to the eye or something.

"Where did you learn to fight anyway?" Sarah asked after a few moments of silence. She set down the powder and reached for the rouge. Al felt like it was safe to speak, so she answered.

"Get beat up a couple o' times an' ya loin to fight back," she answered, keeping her face still as Sarah patted her cheeks. "The boys gave me some pointahs an' I loined from experience."

"So you've been in quite a few fights?"

"More'n I can count," Al laughed.

"That's scary."

"That's life."

Sarah's lips pressed together in a thin line while she worked. "Open your eyes wide."

Al did as she was told and flinched when she saw the small brush coming towards her eye, but forced herself to let Sarah work.

"Well, what are a few pointers you have for me?" Sarah asked when she was finished with her eyes. She stood to retrieve the curling iron and Al moved to sit on David and Les's bed so she could watch Sarah do her own hair. "You said you would teach me to fight."

"I remembah," Al smiled. "Well, show me what a good punchin' fist looks like."

Sarah's tongue stuck out with concentration as she held the curling iron with one hand and lifted a fist for Al to see.

"That's ya foist problem. Ya thumb goes on the outside of your fist. If it's on the inside, you'll break it or sommat." She remembered seeing Boots's swollen thumb after he had made that very same mistake. It hadn't been a pretty sight. "Put it ovah your fingahs, like this."

"Okay," she modelled her hand correctly and Al smiled, nodding with reassurance. When she pulled the iron out of her hair, Al continued.

"Now, show me a good punch."

Sarah swung her fist around, twisting her wrist sideways in a way that would likely catch the offender in the cheek.

"Second problem," Al instructed as Sarah twisted another lock of hair onto the curling iron. "Is that you're swingin' from the side. You're gonna do more damage to yourself than to ya opponent. You catch 'im like that an' you'll likely break those last two knuckles of yours."

Sarah cringed at the idea. "So what do I do instead?"

"You gotta hit 'im straight on. The powah's gotta come from ya chest an' all your knuckles needa make contact. That way, it evens out the punch." She punched her own palm, demonstrating how every knuckle made contact when she did.

Sarah nodded slowly. "Makes sense."

"That's why it woiks." Al grinned smugly.

"Ya know, you look like your brothah when you smile like that." Sarah pointed out with a broad grin of her own.

Al's smile grew. "Well don't ya start fancyin' me too."

"I don't think you need to worry about that."


	22. Nerves

_**Author's Note: Extra special thanks to everyone who reviewed my last chapter. I'm glad y'all enjoyed the Al/Sarah bonding time. I loved writing it. So thank you Narniafan96, Rachel, mysterygirl, Ealasaid Una, LucyofNarnia, Austra, and Eruanna Undomiel for letting me know your thoughts on it. :) I loved reading them. :)  
>Also, don't forget! The Newsies "Summer Reading" Fanfiction Award nomination period ends tomorrow and voting starts on Sunday! :) There's a link on my profile if you wanna check it out! <strong>_

**Chapter 22- Nerves**

Al and Sarah came out of the room about an hour later, both entirely ready for their night at the rally. The former felt uncomfortable, though, as she made her appearance in the family living room. She wasn't used to the swishing skirt or the bouncing curls. She wasn't used to having her more feminine curves accentuated instead of hidden and she felt oddly exposed, even if she was wearing more material than usual.

Secretly, she was terrified that she looked hideous and she would be laughed at. Sure, she'd seen herself in the mirror. Though surprised, she had been pleased with her reflection. Her outfit, her hair, the makeup- she thought it gorgeous and Sarah had told her as much. Still, what if she was wrong. What if she really looked like a little boy with a painted face.

"Look at you two lovely ladies!" Mrs. Jacobs crooned, seeing them first. "You look stunning!"

"Well it's about time!" Jack cried, jumping up from where he sat on the couch. He promptly received an irritated look from everyone else in the room. "Er- sorry."

"Oh, Alison, look at you!" Mrs. Jacobs continued. "So beautiful! Don't you think, honey?"

Mr. Jacobs looked over the book he had been reading. "Yes, of course."

"Do you like my dress, Papa?" Sarah asked, holding out the edges and twirling for him.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've evah laid eyes on," he laughed as she planted a kiss on his cheek. "Beside your mothah of course."

Al stood awkwardly back as the two parents turned their attention to their daughter. She knew both Jack and David were looking at her, but kept her eyes on the other three so as to avoid embarrassment.

"You look real pretty, Al," Les said from the couch. Al couldn't stop the smile that lit up her face as she turned to the younger boy.

"Thank you, Les."

"Well, aren't ya gonna show us your outfit?" Jack said, looking at Sarah for a second before turning back. She could see her brother was having trouble focusing with the girl he obviously fancied right next to him in such a pretty dress.

"I ain't gonna twoil, if that's what ya mean," Al answered, raising an eyebrow at her brother.

"Well at least we know it's you. I hardly recognize ya," he laughed. "Ya look nice, Al."

"Thanks."

There was a knock on the front door and Mrs. Jacobs went to answer it. When it opened, Mush stood awkwardly in the doorway, his newsboy cap twisting in his hands.

"Good evenin', ma'am. Is Jack here?"

"I'm ovah here, Mush," Jack responded, heading toward the doorway with Sarah on his arm now. Al couldn't help but smirk at the guesture. The two of them were adorable.

"The boys is waitin' downstairs," he explained, shifting awkwardly. "You all ready?"

"Yeah, we're comin'," Al answered. Mush's eyes widened when he looked at her and she felt heat rise to her face at his reaction.

"You clean up nice, Al," he smirked after a second.

"Aww, shaddup," she smirked. She could tell he was sincere, though, and it put her far more at ease.

"In my day, most girls had only one date to something like this," Mr. Jacobs said loudly, with a broad smile. "These two have an entire group tripping all over themselves to escort 'em."

Sarah and Al both blushed at the sentiment.

"Well, let's get going." Jack announced and the six headed down the stairs.

When the group of Manhattaners finally made it to the theatre, everyone made a beeline for the refreshment table Medda had so thoughtfully set out for them. Al wondered at the woman's generosity for the thousandth time in her life. If all the New York City newsies showed up, this entire theatre would be packed. Was she really going to provide nourishment for all these half-starved boys?

Still, she took her helping of cold meat, bread, and cheese with all the other boys.

It wasn't long before the theatre was packed. The room was so crammed full of people that Al decided packed was an understatement.

The noise was overwhelming and Al was almost glad when Brooklyn arrived and the presence of Spot Conlon took it down a few levels. The Brooklyn boys went straight for Manhattan.

"Who's that?" Sarah asked upon seeing them approach.

"That's Spot Conlon, King o' Brooklyn," Jack answered, sitting up straighter at the borough leader's approach. David did the same while Al merely crossed her arms across her chest.

"Jacky-boy!" Spot spat in his hand and offered it to Al's brother, the table between them. He then did the same with David. Al caught Sarah grimacing out of the corner of her eye and couldn't help chuckling.

"I see there's two lovely ladies here tonight." He gave a cocky grin and wiped his hand on his pants before holding it out to Sarah. He kissed her knuckles and then reached for Al. She almost snubbed him, but decided against it and gave him her hand. His cocky grin grew and he kissed her knuckles, letting his lips linger until she yanked her hand away.

"Good to see ya, Spot," Jack said. "This is Sarah, David's sistah."

"Nice to meet you." Sarah inclined her head, clearly feeling awkward as she tried to catch the other girl's eye. Al noticed, but ignored her, watching Spot with an irritated glare as he seated himself next to David on her right.

Spot merely nodded and looked to Jack. "So when's this rally gettin' started. I ain't got all night."

"We're still waiting for Staten Island and the Bronx," David responded for his friend. "Then the four of us," he indicated Al, Spot, Jack, and himself. "Are gonna go onstage and talk about everything. Not for long, though. Medda's prepared entertainment for afterward."

It wasn't long before the other two groups arrived and the designated four hurried backstage. Jack left Sarah in the care of Crutchy and Mush, who he knew would keep an eye on her without getting too flirty. Most of the Manhattan boys had claimed one of the balcony boxes that were close to the stage, but others stayed on the floor. Racetrack stayed near the stage, where many of the borough leaders had congregated so he could represent Manhattan among them.

Spot and Jack went to stage right, where they were talking to Medda before they went onstage. David and Al took stage left and waited for the other two to give them the signal to go on.

"You know, I'm pretty sure Spot tries to irritate you on purpose," David prodded as they stood together, a half-fond smile on his face.

"I know he does. The problem is that he's too good at it." Al rolled her eyes. "He knows exactly what gets on my noives an' goes outta his way to do it. It's his way o' flirtin'."

David laughed and peeked through the curtain. Al watched his face as he surveyed the crowd and his face grew pale.

"Hey," she pulled his sleeve so he would move away from the curtain. He dropped it and turned his attention to her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin'."

She gave him a pointed look, raising an eyebrow, and waited for him to amend his response.

"I'm nervous, alright?" he huffed. She smiled in response.

"Ain't nothin' to be noivous about, Davy. You're the Walkin' Mouth. This is ya talent here," she reasoned with him.

"Sure, but did ya see how many people are out there?" he retorted, tugging at his ear in agitation.

"'Course I did." Al put a hand on his cheek and made him look at her. She looked him straight in the eye. "You'll do great out there. They's gonna love you just like we do."

The way he looked at her caught her off-guard. He didn't respond, he just stared at her with a look in his eyes that she couldn't place. She found herself studying his bright blue eyes and the smattering of freckles across his nose. She had noticed he was handsome when she met him, but-

"You look beautiful tonight, Alison," he finally said.

Al felt heat rise to her face as her stomach flip-flopped. She hoped it was too dark for him to see the blush that had spread across her face. She knew it wasn't too dark for him to see her ever-widening smile, though. She felt amost giddy.

"Well don't you two look adorable!" Medda's shrill, Swedish voice cut through the air like a knife. Al and David jumped apart as if they'd been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Now, Al was sure, both of them were blushing. "Look at you all dressed up!"

Medda descended on the two of them with unexplainable happiness. She beamed at the two as she took in their appearances. She was riveted on Al in an instant.

"Look at you in a skirt and with your hair curled. You are the most beautiful thing that has ever graced my stage!" Medda exclaimed.

Al cocked her head with a grin. "I doubt that, Medda. An' you got Davy's sistah to thank for my transformation. She coiled my hair, let me borrow her clothes, an' everythin'."

"Well tell her I think she did a fine job of it!" Medda laughed, the sound like bells. "Now you two better get onstage now."

As she was ushered onstage, she couldn't help but give David a sidelong glance. As the lights hit her face, she decided with unforeseen clarity that she liked David as more than just a friend, and if he were to ask her to be his girl, she might just say yes.

Seconds later, the three leaders of the rally and the King of Brooklyn were standing onstage in front of a whooping crowd of newsies, whose undying enthusiasm roared in waves of applause and hollering.

Al had little doubt that it was Brooklyn that started the catcalling, but it spread across the theatre like wildfire. She covered her face with one hand and groaned loudly as boys started whistling and asking if the entertainment had started early. The Lodge boys started yelling insults at the more rowdy boys and Al could see her brother scowling viciously. Her own jaw was clenched pretty tight and she could feel David's hand on her shoulder, as if he were ready to push her behind himself if danger presented itself.

"I need a smoke," she muttered with irritation, doubtful that anyone heard her.

"Shaddup!" Spot yelled above them all, brandishing his cane with a menacing look. "You's boys are gonna treat Al with the respect you give 'er every day as a newsie. You got me to answah to if I don't like the way you's is treatin' her."

The silence was almost deafening and Al gave Spot an affirming smile. She hadn't expected that, but she was thankful for his defense.

"Wait, that's Al Kelly?" someone called from the back.

"Wake up, idiot!" Kid Blink's unmistakeable voice called from where he was hanging off the balcony to Al's right.

The gathering dissolved into arguing again.

"That ain't Cap!"

"Lookin' fine, Ali!"

"No, Al's a boy!"

"'Course she ain't a boy, dimwit."

"That was why Shifty was sayin' that the othah day?"

"Al!" Her head jerked at the sound of Racetrack's voice. He was holding up his cap to her and she smiled as she realized what he was thinking. She reached out for it and firmly placed it on her head, noticing Sarah's amused grin from further back in the crowd.

"Yeah, I'mma goil who's been runnin' around dressed like a boy," she said, pullling her curls gently back from her face so they could see the shape of it with the newsboy cap atop her head. She let them fall back into place as the boys got somewhat quieter. "It's a long story an' not one we came here to discuss, so let's get to the point already."

"Alright," Jack took control, moving to the front of the crowd. "You alls know why we're here. The big shots o' this town think they got us wrapped around their finger. They think that they can jack up the price an' make us eat the papes we don't sell an' it don't mattah, 'cause we're just newsies. Street rats. We're here sayin' even the street rats is important. We're here, 'cause we ain't gonna let 'em bring us down no more! It's about time we got some rights of our own!"

"An' we've done a real good job so far!" Al stepped forward, knowing it was her turn to speak. They had hashed out the basics of how this was going to play out the day before. "I mean, jus' a couple o' days ago, we were just a bunch of angry kids who no one cared about. Look at us now. We're rallyin' togethah. We put Pulitzer in his place! We took on the biggest bunch o' scabbah thugs I evah laid eyes on!" She smiled and gestured at her face. "An' we got the bruises to prove it. The point is, we can do this. An' we ain't gonna give up, 'cause if we give up, we starve. If we give up, we're tellin' them hoity toity big shots that they were right. The street rats don't mean nothin'."

She looked over at Jack, signalling that she was done with her bit. He stepped forward again.

"So, we've come a long way!" her brother summed up succinctly. "We ain't there yet an' maybe it's only gonna get toughah from now on. But that's fine, we'll just get toughah with it." He grinned as some of the boys cheered and reached back for David, who was now standing between Spot and Al. "But also, also we gotta get smart an' listen to my pal, David." He paused and allowed for the audience to cheer a little.

That was one thing that Al loved about newsies. They were always responsive, even when being spoken to in a large group like this, and applauded (or booed) at every pause in the speaker's oration. Spot reached over to pat David on the chest as Jack pulled him forward, showing his support of the Walkin' Mouth and Al patted him on the shoulder for good measure. He glanced over at her and gave her a nervous smile. A grin tugged at her own lips in response.

"Who says, 'Stop soakin' the scabs.'"

The boys went silent for a moment and Al could feel the disbelief radiating off of them, though she couldn't see their faces past the stage lights. The murmuring in the crowd grew louder as they started to protest.

"What're we supposed to do to the bums?" Racetrack asked loudly, the corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. "Kiss 'em?"

They knew this would be the hard part. It had taken long enough to convince she and Jack. Of course it would take some fancy wordplay to get it through to these boys. Al glared at Race with a clearly you're-not-helping expression that he simple grinned and shrugged at.

"Hey look, any scab I see, I soak 'em. Period." Spot said, laying down the law the way only he could. Al groaned internally as cheers roared through the auditorium. She told Jack they should have convinced him backstage first, but he was convinced this way was best. She hoped her brother was right.

"No, no!" David stepped past them all. "That's what they want us to do! If we get violent, it's just playing into their hands."

"Hey look, they're gonna be playing with my hands, alright?" Spot stepped up, sporting his fists as an illustration and getting in David's face. Al shot her brother a warning look and he nodded, stepping up closer in case the Brooklyn newsie's Irish temper bested him. This would be the worst time for that to happen and Al feared the melee that would undoubtedly ensue. To David's credit, he didn't flinch or get angry. He just stood there, looking Spot calmly in the eye. "'Cause this ain't what they say; it's what we say. And nobody ain't gonna listen to us unless we make 'em. That's what we did with the thugs, wasn't it, Al?"

Al puffed out her cheeks, hard-pressed to stand against Spot's claim. Two days ago she would have agreed with him wholeheartedly, regardless of the face that it was Spot Conlon doing the talking. When had she ever been one to bargain for peace?

"Those scabbahs came at _us_, Conlon," she pointed out, loud enough for their audience to listen in, though she kept her eyes on him. "That was self-defense an' our boys suffered for it. This ain't no mission to get ourselves killed. We're tryin' to get our rights an' if we don't show the people that we're more'n just fists, no one'll listen to us, even if we try to make 'em."

The newsies were yelling at each other now. Choosing sides. The sound was deafening.

"Ya got no brains," Jack yelled over everyone, fighting to be heard. "We're startin' to fight each othah. It's just what the big shots wanna see!" He was getting frustrated and his face was turning red with the power of his voice.

Al held up a hand and her brother stopped. She hooked her pinky fingers on either side of her lower lip and whistled loud enough to get every boy's attention in the room. Most of the ones near her clapped their hands over their ears and grimaced. "Now shaddup an' listen, ya bummahs!" she yelled.

If there was one thing Al Kelly could be, it was loud.

"This is just what the big shots want us to be doin'!" Jack repeated himself. "This is what David was sayin'. They wanna see that we're street trash, street rats. No respect for nothin', includin' ourselves. So here's how it is: if we don't act togethah then we're nothin', if we don't stick togethah then we're nothin', an' if we can't even trust each othah then we're nothin'."

"Tell 'em, Jack!" Kid Blink shouted from the now silent crowd, eager to stand behind his longtime friend.

"So, what's it gonna be?"


	23. Sure as Hell

_**Author's Note: Ealasaid Una, Rachel, LC, mysterygirl, and LucyofNarnia- y'all had awesome reviews! Thank you so much for each of them! :)**_

_**I'm sick and I should really be doing homework right now, but I'm procrastinating because I enjoyed writing this chapter and want y'all to read it! :P Also, I lied about the end date for nominations. . . well, not intentionally, but still. Apparently nominations don't end until October 2nd. Haha. My bad. Crap- there was something else I was gonna tell y'all but I forget now. :/**_

**Chapter 23- Sure as Hell**

_I may be bloodied and so bruised  
>But I'm here to tell you<br>I may be knocked down, but not for the count  
>So take me one more round<br>I'll just keep fighting  
>One more round<br>I'll come out swinging_

_~One More Round: BarlowGirl~_

"We're with you, Jack," Racetrack answered the call immediately as other voices agreed. There was still plenty of puttering around, though, and all eyes turned on the king of Brooklyn, who was deep in thought.

Al was glad he wasn't lying that day on the docks. He did have more than half a brain and that brain knew he wouldn't get anywhere if he didn't listen sometimes.

"So whattaya say, Spot?" Jack stood nearly nose to nose with the cane-wielding newsie. Al held her breath. It seemed like every other newsie in the place was doing the same.

"I say that what you say. . ." He took a pause for effect and the corners of his mouth turned upward as he finished. "Is what I say."

The two spit shook and a cheer went up around the theatre. Al grinned and heard David dramatically sigh in relief. She clapped a hand on his back and called over her shoulder, "It's your toin, Medda!"

As the lights converged into one distinct spotlight, the four newsies who had been onstage jumped off. Racetrack held a hand out to Al and helped her down before joining the hollering that the boys had begun at the prospect of seeing Medda perform. She pulled his cap off of her head and set it atop his. He adjusted it without acknowledgement and she smiled. Racetrack had visited Medda almost as often as she and Jack had in their time in Manhattan. He couldn't get enough of her beauty and singing voice; she couldn't get enough of his 'adorable humor'. She loved at least half of the Manhattan newsies and they all loved her back. She was the glamorous aunt figure that they had always wanted.

"Hello newsies! What's new?" she asked, parasol over a shoulder.

Al smiled as the boys went wild again, barely making it to her table with David and Jack. She sat down next to Sarah, who leaned over to yell over the ruckus.

"You did great!"

"Thanks, I'm glad ya think so," Al responded with a smile.

"You shoulda seen their faces when the boys started whooping at you," Sarah commented, only two inches from Al's ear, but still yelling over the song. She indicated Spot, Jack, and David. "All three of them looked ready to hurt someone. Even Mush an' Crutchy looked like they were about to fight someone."

Al smiled and rolled her eyes fondly before leaning back in her chair. Sarah turned to say something to Jack and Al swayed with the music, singing along with the ginger actress. This was a song she'd heard many a time. Medda was right; it was perfect for the occasion.

"So you've got street rats that scream in your ear," Al sang along, smile wide as David and Spot looked over at her, both raising an eyebrow.

"You win some and lose some, my dear!" Jack joined in with his sister, an amused grin spreading across his face as he turned to look at Sarah.

She finished off the song and the newsies started screaming for an encore.

Al leaned over to David, "It wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No," he laughed. "Then again, I only said about ten words." He seem pleased that he hadn't been called on to do much more public speaking than that. He seemed content to let she and Jack do the rallying up of the crowd.

"Next time we'll make sure to give you more time then," she laughed. His eyes narrowed, but a smile tugged at his mouth until he let it blossom. The thought crossed her mind that she enjoyed seeing him smile. She liked that it made the freckles on his cheeks bunch together. She liked that it didn't hide pain behind it, because he hadn't known the kind of pain she had and she prayed he never would.

She sat back and wondered what it would be like if she did become David's girl. Wouldn't Medda love every second of that? And Jack would likely give some kind of tough guy speech. She wondered how the Lodge boys would react to the idea.

She shook her head clear of her thoughts. No, David deserved someone more on par with himself. She was living on the streets, for goodness sake! David deserved a real girl who knew how to apply her own makeup and had never worn trousers a day in her life. He deserved someone who was as smart and kind as himself. She wasn't any of those things. Al just hoped she would find a way to get along with this girl when she came along, because she wanted to be David's friend as long as fate would allow her.

David suddenly grabbed her arm and squeezed so tightly, she automatically yanked her arm away.

"What the-" She turned and saw that David's eyes were abnormally wide and the panic she saw in them made her feel like hiking up her skirt and running as far away as she could.

"Al, it's Snyder! Look at Denton."

She felt her own eyes get wide and she followed to where she knew the reporter was standing. He had taken a picture of the boys shaking hands when they came to the conclusion on the earlier debate over soaking the scabs and the flash had nearly blinded her.

Denton was desperately trying to distract the Refuge warden, but the man's eyes were firmly fixed ahead of him.

"Oh God," Al breathed, feeling like there wasn't any oxygen in the room anymore.

"Sarah, go find Les. Now!" Al instructed. Sarah understood the urgency in her friend's voice and didn't stop to ask questions. David was leaning over and informing Spot when Al stood.

She spotted Jack just as David said, "I don't think Denton can hold him back much longer."

"Let's get Jack!"

Spot was already pushing through the crowd to get his boys ready for a fight. They all knew Snyder wouldn't show up with the odds so in Jack's favor. He had to have reinforcements.

The two shoved through the group of boys, elbowing mercilessly in their effort to get to the Manhattan newsboys' leader. Al gasped as a particularly spiteful newsie elbowed her back and caught her ribs right at the break. She clenched her jaw and pushed onward, though. Whoever that guy was, he was lucky she had more important things on her mind or she would have personally shattered his arm.

David reached her brother first and by the time she reached him, his entire face had fallen, eyes locked on the threat looming in the entryway. Jack gave Medda a hurried thanks and started pushing his way further into the crowd when the unmistakeably shrill call of police whistles pierced the air. Al felt tendrils of fear snake down her spine. Suddenly, the bulls were pouring out of every nook and cranny of the theatre.

The newsies went on the defensive as Sarah and Les reached their three counterparts. It was a fight none of them had suspected. Al had seen police brutality before, but this was an entirely new level for her. She had at least expected them to at least ask for surrender. But no, they just come in here swinging their clubs and their fists like the newsies were some sort of cattle that needed to be herded and put down.

She felt twin tremors of righteous indignation and unforseen terror course through her as she followed the boys to one of the side exits.

_I knew they viewed us as trash, but this is. . ._ She couldn't find a word to describe it, but she felt sick. Perhaps 'nauseating' would do.

"No!" Medda's shrieked over the sounds of fighting, sounding more terrified than Al had ever heard her before. "Stop! For God's sakes! He's just a child, can't you see that? Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" She was beyond frantic and Al wished she was closer and could help her. "Racketrack!"

_Someone's gonna die,_ Al's teeth were clenching so hard that she thought they might crack.

These were her friends they were pummeling. Her fingers twitched, eager to show these idiots just who they were messing with.

Sarah and Les were ushered out quickly, told to find somewhere safe. David and Jack grabbed at both each of her arms, but she sidestepped quickly enough to avoid both.

"Ah, hell no!" she snarled. "Don't even think I'm leavin' yous two behind!"

Jack growled out some obscenity she couldn't catch, but they didn't get much more time to argue.

"I've got you, Sullivan!" one of the bulls growled, grabbing for Jack. Al punched him in the face before he could get any closer and more amassed around them.

Her brother jumped onto the piano beside them and David had to scramble up behind him. Al cursed the skirt she had worn and realized there was no way she had enough time to get up, even with David reaching his hand down to her.

"Help my bruddah, Davy!" she yelled, facing the men before her.

"It's her. It's the girl," one of them exclaimed excitedly. He reached out for her, but she grabbed his hand and bent the wrist back until she felt it give with a hearty snap and it's owner cry out in pain.

"We don't wanna hurt ya, Miss." One of the other bulls stepped forward with a tad more caution. "If you'll just come with-"

"Don't wanna _hoit_ me? You're murderin' my family here!" she snarled. "An' I'm sure as hell gonna hoit you!" She kicked him in the groin and grabbed his baton, whirling it once over her head before bashing one man in the helmet, sending him sprawling into one of his counterparts.

At that point, she bolted around the piano and toward where David was staring down Snyder, the wooden seat of the swing in his hand. When she saw Skittery and a few other Lodge boys flank him, she set her sights on her brother, whom she'd just spotted heading toward the balcony Kid Blink and some of the other Manhattan boys had occupied early.

Stopping to bash a couple of bulls in the head who had formed a semicircle around Mush, whom they'd pinned against a wall, slowed her down. Still, she managed to put the odds in his favor and make it to Jack just as the Delancey brothers showed up. Jack skidded to a stop in front of them.

"Show's over, Cowboy!" Oscar sneered. The two were backed up by their uncle and Al felt her up lips curl in disgust at the sight of them.

"Balcony!" Al screeched. Jack jumped from a ledge to reach the balcony railing and pulled himself up.

"Well if it ain't me favorite family!" Al hissed, immediately slamming the baton into Oscar's ribs before ducking under the club wielded by Weasel.

"Al!"

"Run now, Jack! They're aftah you, not me! The soonah you're outta here, the soonah I'm safe," she lied, barely dodging Morris as he leapt to tackle her. She wasn't able to dodge Oscar, though and she felt her body slam onto the carpeted floor. She cried out despite herself, nearly screaming as pain shot through her body.

Suddenly a blurred body knocked Oscar off of her and she turned to see Specs pummeling the snot out of him. She jumped to her feet before either Morris or Weasel could reach her. Morris was already in a tussel with Skittery and it only took one swing of her baton to his face to get Weasel down. She relished in the delightful crunch that came after the impact, but didn't get the chance to focuse on her handiwork. She hurdled over Oscar and Specs' horizontal bodies and vaulted over the banister in time to see one bull barely reign in his horse from planting his hooves on Jack's chest. It was all she could do to keep herself from tackling the man off the horse.

Instead, she vaulted the middle railing and pulled her brother onto his feet. He was out of breath and looked like a caged animal, eyes wild with terror. She half pulled him up the stairs, but when he hit the top step, some thug gave him a punch in the eye that sent him flying backward into the arms of a cluster of bulls and thugs.

"Jack!" Al screeched. She felt someone's hands clamp onto her upper arms while her head was turned toward her brother.

"We got 'em both!" the thug holding her called above the roar. "I got the Sullivan goil here."

Al growled, feeling like a caged animal herself now. She kicked at the man's shins and managed a good enough foothold to get him in the groin.

Calling out his quarry had turned out to be a bad idea. Every newsie loyal to Manhattan was just as eager to protect her as her brother and every member of the strike had identified her as one of the leaders, therefore needing protection from the authorities who wanted to bring their effort to an end. It didn't hurt her cause that she was a girl, either.

She caught a glimpse of the boys converging on the man who had grabbed her and his cohorts and another glimpse of David trying to pull Jack to safety and failing. Al thought it might have been Denton who tried to grab her hand next, but she was out of his reach, because she'd thrown herself off-balance in trying to free herself.

Seconds later, the world was spinning as she fell head over heels down the carpeted stairway. She caught another glimpse of the mass of newsies trying to get at the bulls, who were carting her brother away.

Pain radiated through her being to the point where she couldn't tell which part of her body was slamming into what. Everything felt like it was on fire. Al grasped enough to feel her legs, then her torso, slam into two different sets of legs on her way to the bottom. She hadn't even reached the bottom of the stairs when she lost consciousness, her body unable to handle the pain any longer.

_**A/N: I was just about to upload this when I remembered the other thing I was gonna say. . . WE HIT 100 REVIEWS! Woohoo! Thanks guys. Every single one of those 100 reviews means sooooo much to me and I can't wait to read the ones you continue to send in. :)  
>*Does happy dance for the next twenty minutes* <strong>_


	24. Charm and Diplomacy

_**Author's Note: Y'all's concern for Al's welfare was super touching and I'm more than happy to let you know how she's doing now! :)  
>Special thanks to my lovely reviewers: Rachel, mysterygirl, Narniafan96, Austra, LucyofNarnia, LC, and Ealasaid Una! Y'all are the bomb! (Apparently I'm from the 80's now. :P) <strong>_

**Chapter 24- Charm and Diplomacy**

The first thing Al heard upon waking was the sound of her own groaning. Everything hurt. Her head felt like it had been cracked open and her breathing was labored.

Though she didn't open her eyes, she slowly became aware of her surroundings. She lay on her back and could feel the soft yet short carpet cushioning her bare arms. Her head rested on something soft and her skirt tickled her ankles.

_Why am I wearing a skirt?_ The question sparked her memory and she shot up. She was on her feet before the pain caused her to lose her balance and she started to topple over. A pair of strong arms caught her before she could hit the ground.

"Whoa, Al. Calm down," David said, moving her over to a chair.

The tears were already streaming down her face by the time she was seated and it wasn't because of the pain. She vaguely realized she was in one of the side rooms of the theatre.

"Where is 'e? Where's Jack?"

She noticed the bruises spotting David's wrists and face as he grappled for an answer. "They took him. I tried to stop them, but there were too many. They got some of the other boys too."

"Oh God," Al dropped her head into her hands and started to shake.

"Come on, Cap, it'll be alright," Specs' voice makes her look up. His glasses were crooked and likely irreparably damaged. His nose was bleeding, but thankfully didn't look broken. His shirt was ripped across his stomach, revealing the mottled bruises across his torso. "This is Jack we're talkin' about."

Al let out a string of curses and dropped her head back into her hands. Specs knelt down beside her and made her move her hands so he could look her in the face.

"Look, ya can cry all ya want in an hour or two, but right now, yous got a job to do," he told her sternly. David started to protest, but Specs ignored him and continued. "They got Spot, so yous gotta talk to Kiver 'fore he'll go home with the Brooklyn boys. An' yes, it's gotta be you. Race isn't here and neither is Blink, so ya can't pawn it off on 'em. You gotta be the leadah right now."

Al nodded and pulled herself together, knowing any sign of weakness in front of Kiver would not yield desirable results. She stood, still a little wobbly, and took deep, controlled breaths. The pain was unrelenting, but she knew better than to let it control her. She knew pain and she knew how to deal with it.

She wiped away the tears on her cheeks, glad for the thousandth time in her life that she had one of those faces that didn't betray the fact that she had been crying. She checked herself in the mirror, knowing the makeup Sarah had given her would likely have caused streaks. Thankfully, it looked like the girl had applied it sparingly and it didn't look much different than it had before. She did notice that she hadn't managed to accumulate any more facial bruises, which was something to be thankful for, at least.

"Where is 'e?" she asked after a second.

Specs jerked his head toward the door and she headed toward it.

"Well aren't you gonna go with her?" David asked the newsie as he made to follow her himself.

"No," Al answered, turning around. "Specs, can you get me a head count on who needs help an' who got arrested?" He nodded and headed out the other door. "Davy, you can come with me if ya want. It'll help to know you're there."

"I'm staying with you," David responded with a resoluteness that calmed her shaking. She had to forcibly remove the urge to fall into his arms and cry again. This was her brother's job, not hers.

She opened the door and nearly ran headlong into Dutchy, whose glasses had come away free of damage, much to her relief.

"Cap, you're alright." He loosed a tight-lipped smile and hurried back to whatever it was he had been doing.

The two of them found Brooklyn's second-in-command a few minutes later, his rigid finger hitting Skittery in the chest as he yelled. The Brooklyn newsies flanked their current leader, all looking about as irritated and irate as he was.

"What's goin' on here, Kiver?" Al asked through half-gritted teeth.

"It's about time the Beauty Queen showed up," Kiver turned his attention toward her.

She ignored the jab and turned to Skittery, "You alright?"

"M'fine." Skittery was still glaring at Brooklyn's second-in-command. "Glad you're okay."

"Thanks, I'm glad you are too." She patted him gently on the back and turned, crossing her arms over her chest. "Whattaya need, Kiver?"

"Let's talk in private."

The two found an unoccupied room not far from where they were. David started to protest, but was silenced by both a glare from Al and a restraining hand from Skittery. It was customary for leaders to speak to each other one on one and David's interfering would only undermine her authority, making her appear weak, and make Brooklyn more uneasy than they already were.

Al shut the door behind her, closing the two into one of the smaller prop rooms. The shelves were littered with wooden swords, painted masks, feathers, and other random items. Two hanging bulbs illuminated the area, casting strange shadows on the walls around them.

"What the hell just happened out there?" Kiver was angry and his face was already turning red. "We was supposed to be comin' to a newsie rally and we get raided by the bulls! One second, wes all enjoyin' ourselves and then Spot comes racin' ovah tellin' us to prepare for a fight! I know yous was with 'im afore that, Cap!"

"Calm down," Al said firmly, arms still crossed over her chest. "Angah isn't helping anythin'." She watched his fists clench and unclench, but his face slowly lessed in redness and she continued. "Snyder, head of the Refuge, has been aftah Cowboy for years, but he's figured out more 'bout us since the strike started and we been in the papes. Guess he decided the rally was a good time to hit us where it hoits and help Pulitzer mess with us at the same time."

Kiver took all this in and she studied him as he did so. His black hair fell in curly waves around his freckled face and green eyes, nearly the same shade as her own, barely reaching the ends of his ears. He was almost a head taller than Spot and his shoulders were broader, but Al knew Spot could beat the kid in a fist fight any day of the week. She had seen him do it too.

His next accusation came out in the form of a low growl. "You put us all in danger."

"And what were we supposed to do? Hide Jack backstage? Come on, Kiver, I know ya got some brains in there."

Kiver slammed her against the only bare wall, his right arm squeezing her right shoulder, his forearm pinning her there. His left arm was raised and ready to strike. "Shaddup, ya whore! Spot's in prison 'cause o' your rotten bruddah." She had barely managed to keep herself from crying out at the impact, but was pleased she had managed to control herself.

"Get your hands offa me, Kiver," she snarled. "You don't wanna break your treaty with 'Hattan 'cause ya can't control yaself."

His eyes narrowed, but Kiver backed off. Al refused to show the fact that she was hurting even more now and narrowed her own eyes.

"Now, theys probably gonna try 'em in court tomorrow. You know where the courthouse is?"

He gave a curt nod.

"Good. I'll send a boidie over in the mornin'; moment I know somethin'. We should know the time o' the hearin' by then." She looked him over and he looked more tired and deflated now. It was then that she noticed his split lip and a bruise peaking out of the collar of his shirt that betrayed the spot where he'd been caught by a police baton. She relaxed a little. He was just as scared as herself and most of the other boys.

"How many o' your boys got taken?" he asked after a moment.

"Haven't hoid back from Specs yet. I know they got at least three, includin' Jack." She pressed two fingers to her left temple, rubbing it slowy in an attempt to ward off the splitting headache behind it. "What about Brooklyn?"

"Two. Spot an' one o' our smallah boys," he answered. "Look, we gotta get back to our territory. See ya tomorrow, Cap."

She nodded as he left, standing alone for a moment to gather her wits about her again. Al decided she had handled the meeting well, but desperately wanted Jack back to handle these sorts of things again. She knew she would have to talk to the other borough leaders before the night was up and the fact irritated her.

Skittery's face appeared through the crack in the door. "Brooklyn's gone, but Harlem, Bronx, and Queens're all waitin' to talk with ya. Dave's keepin' 'em busy."

"Just send 'em all in here at once."

"Ya sure that's safe?" Skittery fidgeted, coming through the door and closing it behind him. "You ain't really in top condition an' these boys is pissed."

"Im sure. We've got more important things to worry about an' the soonah we're done fillin' everyone in, the soonah we can get to bed tonight," Al answered, trying on a cocky grin that she knew wouldn't fool him. "'Sides, we Kelly's got a way with puttin' on the charm."

All the Lodge boys knew she hadn't gained an ounce of her brother's charm and had an overbearing amount of hot-headedness in her system. However, the comment produced the desired result as Skittery cracked a smile and laughed, shaking his head with amusement.

"Would ya go find Medda an' check on 'er? Let 'er know that I'll come talk to 'er if she wants, once I'm done here."

Skittery nodded and started to head out the door.

"Wait, how long was I out? And how come the bulls didn't catch me too? I was out cold."

"Half an hour, I think," Skittery answered, adjusting his cap atop his head with a sigh. "Bumlets kept the bulls from gettin' to ya until they knocked 'im out an' dragged him off. But it gave Runner and Listener enough time to pull ya into anothah room. Specs got 'em to stay in there with ya and be ya 'guards' by until the coast was clear, so they're fine."

Al nodded, thankful for the loyalty the Manhattan newsies had shown. She was more than thankful.

Skittery headed out the door, presumably to send in the other three borough leaders who had waited to talk to her.

While Al hadn't inherited Jack's charm, she had been granted her fair share of diplomacy and managed to convince them that the strike was not over, this was just a temporary setback. She reminded them of Jack's words onstage. He had said it might get harder and this was living proof, but they had a job to do and people to feed. They couldn't back down now.

Most of their boys had gotten away from the bulls, though Bronx had lost its second-in-command and Queens had lost a set of of identical twins. She told them what she had told Kiver, that the hearing would be tomorrow and she would send birdies when she found the time.

Even with her diplomacy skills, she found talking to the three more than trying. They had trouble taking her seriously since she was a girl, and she found herself having to take an extra five minutes to remind them that they had to treat her with the respect she deserved as Manhattan's current leader and that she had proven herself long before when everyone had assumed she was a boy.

Then Harlem got out of hand at one point and tried to take a swing at her. She had managed to dodge it and Bronx gave him an earful for it, both because he had nearly hit a girl and because he was breaking boundary lines by the action. Al swept it aside, understanding that they were all on edge after the night's proceedings.

Finally, they went home and Al left the small room with a sense of accomplishment that was heavily overshadowed by weariness. David was at her side in an instant, making sure she was okay. As he led her to a seat, he informed her that Specs had come a few minutes earlier. The cops had managed to snatch eight of their boys, but the wounded weren't very badly off at all. Dutchy had taken all the younger ones home and the rest were awaiting orders.

"Denton was here too," David continued. "He said the hearing was going to be at ten tomorrow morning and he would meet you and I at the Distribution Center. He said he could get us inside."

Al nodded, feeling her nerves wearing thin. She could only keep up this semblance of togetherness for so long.

"Okay," she said slowly. "Can ya do me a favor an' tell Skittery to get the boys home? He's in charge until I get there in the mornin'. As soon as they're up, he needs to send boidies to Brooklyn, Bronx, an' Queens, lettin' 'em know to be at the courthouse at ten. I gotta go talk to Medda."

David nodded, still looking worried, but he left after a moment's hesitation.

Al sat for a moment before forcing herself to stand. Even as she walked, she could feel the tears starting to stream down her face again. She wiped at them furiously, angry with herself for letting her emotions get the best of her. It occurred to her that she would have to sleep in an alley by herself tonight, but at least she could cry without fear of being overheard by anyone except the drunks who often roamed the city streets.

Medda was in a state of utter frenzy when Al found her in her backstage sitting room. Black streaks fell in trails down her cheeks and her white hankerchief was now covered in black and red from her makeup. Her eyes were puffy and red as well.

"Oh, Alison, you're alright!" She jumped to her feet and wrapped her arms around the smaller girl, causing Al to cry out in pain. Medda jumped backward and apologized profusely.

"No, no, it's fine," Al said, quickly trying to put the older woman at ease. She didn't want her feeling any worse.

"Those damn police!" Medda growled, throwing her hands up in the air. "How could they hurt you like this? You were just enjoying yourselves and they come in here beating you like animals. In my theatre. In my theatre! How dare they?"

"We fought 'em off good, Medda," Al tried to comfort her. "I got plenty of 'em with their own batons."

This brought a smile to Medda's face as she plopped into a recliner.

"An' I'm sorry 'bout the mess. Maybe we can come back tomorrow after lunch an' help-"

"Absolutely not," Medda looked at her sternly. "You poor darlings have been through enough. We can take care of the mess."

"But-"

"I won't hear of it," she said with a small smile, then changed the subject. "That skirt of yours is ruined."

Al looked down and realized it was stained with blood and torn in more than one place. Medda was right, it was irrepairably damaged. She grimaced. This was one of Sarah's favorites. She hoped the girl wouldn't be too upset over the loss.

"You go home and get some sleep. I'll be fine," Medda encouraged, ushering her out the door.

Al found herself alone backstage a few seconds later, feeling like a lost child. She didn't have a home. Her family was gone. She was alone. She found a secluded spot and sunk to her knees, letting the sobs rack her body in the suffocating darkness that surrounded her.

_**Disclaimer: Kiver is one of my OC's.**_


	25. Captain Les

_**Author's Note: Only two weeks until I get to move back to Texas for two months. I get to live with my best friend until she gets married and I absolutely can't wait! So I'm doing my best to finish this story before then so I won't have to worry about it. Those two months are going to be crazy, but they'll be worth every second of stress. My goal is to make her a die-hard Newsies fan before the two months are up. :P  
>Props to the die-hard Newsies fans that reviewed my last chapter: LucyofNarnia, Ealasaid Una, Austra, Rachel, and mysterygirl. Y'all rock!<strong>_

**Chapter 25- Captain Les**

_Oh, here you are  
><em>_Down on your knees again  
><em>_Trying to find air to breathe again  
><em>_And only surrender will help you now  
><em>_~Again: Flyleaf~_

Al struggled to find air to breath. She felt like all the oxygen was gone and only darkness remained. She tried to tell herself that she needed to leave before Medda found her crumpled up in the darkness, but it didn't work. With each new breath came a new barrage of sobs that shook her entire form, adding a new intensity to her physical pain and only reminding her of how bad the inner pain was.

Snyder had Jack. He had him in the palm of his hand. Would she ever get him back? Would she ever get the chance to see him again? She had tried to see him when he had been imprisoned last time, but no one had even given her the time of day.

Her arms wrapped around her middle as her stomach clenched painfully. If she threw up now, she'd lose the little bit of sustenance her body had gained earlier. She was already exhausted enough without adding retching into the mix.

_It's my worst nightmare_, Al decided, clenching her eyes shut in a futile attempt to wake herself up. She couldn't wake up, though, because her life had become that nightmare. Her brother had been stolen from her and now she was alone. Completely and utterly alone.

She wanted to give up and die right there.

"Al?" a voice asked, cutting through the darkness. "Oh, Al."

Suddenly, someone was beside her, pulling her into their arms. She recognized the scent of David's clothes the moment she leaned against his chest. He sat cross-legged on the floor beside her and cradled her against himself, cooing softly. She heard the concern in his voice, but could do nothing to allay it. She could only sob harder.

"Shh. Al, you're going to hurt yourself," he tried to soothe. "Everything's going to be okay. We'll work this out. Shh. It'll be alright."

"No," Al responded, hiccupping her tears. "It won't be alright. They took him an' now I've got n-no one. It's h-h-happened. I'm alone. S-snyder, that bastard, Snyder t-took him an' I'll nevah see him again."

"You aren't alone, Alison," he responded, gently pulling her up to where he could cup her face between his hands. "Alison Kelly, look at me," he commanded firmly when she tried to pull away. Something in his voice compelled her to obey and she looked through the darkness and into his eyes. "You are not alone. Ya got me and Skittery and Specs and Sarah and everyone else. You've got all the Manhattan newsies backing you up. And we're going to get Jack back, ya hear me? He'll be back an' you'll have him and all the other boys the bulls got."

Al closed her eyes and let the tears fall again, trying to take the comfort from his words that he had intended to give her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and found herself weeping on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her middle and let her cry it out.

When she had finally gained control of herself, he looked at her seriously, "Did you get hurt in the fight?"

"Didn't we all?" she asked, sniffing and giving him a sad smile as he helped her onto her feet.

"That's not an answer." She could tell he was giving her a pointed look as he lead her out the back door of the theatre and into the cool night air.

"Just some bruises as far as I can tell. I fell down the stairs, so that'll leave a nice lil' collection o' bruises on my back." She shrugged and cringed at the motion. Her ribs were even more tender than before. Great. "Hey, where're we goin'?"

"My house," David answered as they came out on a dimly lit street. She could hear the newsies a few streets over, making their general ruckus as they headed back to the Lodge.

"Oh, well I'd bettah get goin'." She made to leave, but David caught her by the arm.

"Oh, no you don't," he warned. "You're stayin' at my place. At least for tonight. You're in no condition to sleep on the streets."

She looked at him and saw that arguing was futile. Besides, she wasn't in the mood to have to fend off drunk idiots all night. With a huff, she turned to walk back beside him and he released her arm.

"So that's why you were unconscious? You fell down the stairs?"

"Yeah, some scabbah nabbed me right after they got Jack an' tried to haul me off, but I kicked 'im where it hoits. Unfortunately, I lost my balance and went tumblin' backwards down the stairs."

David cringed out of sympathy. "I got to kick Snyder in the face," he offered after a few moments.

"Really?" Al sniffed again, still trying to fight back the tears. This news made a genuine smile light up her face.

"Yeah, Jack pushed me in that swing Medda had onstage and I kicked him. Right in the face. Both feet."

"You, Davy, are a lucky man," Al chuckled, then fell back into silence.

They reached his house and decided to use the fire escape entrance in order to keep from waking the entire house. David gave her a boost into his bedroom window and he followed shortly after. She looked to her left and found Les tucked into Sarah's bed, fast asleep. Sarah was asleep too, though fully dressed and on top of the blankets. It looked like she had fallen asleep waiting up for them.

"You take the bed. I'll sleep on the floor," David whispered, already pulling a blanket out of the closet.

"Naw, it's your house. I'll take the floor."

"No way. You're the girl; you get the bed."

Al huffed half-heartedly, but felt the haziness of sleep and sorrow clouding her mind. She wanted nothing more right now than to sleep the whole night through. David smirked and plopped onto the ground, unlacing his shoes. Al sat on the edge of the bed and did the same.

"Take the pillow at least." She tossed it at him. He opened his mouth to protest and she cut him off. "I don't use pillows. Stop arguing and go to sleep."

She hefted the covers up over her shoulders and willed herself to sleep. She had hoped sleep would come immediately, but it didn't. Her tears dampened the sheet that caressed her face, but only the occasional sniffle gave her away. She didn't want to wake the other occupants of the room.

Clenching her eyes shut, she tried to imagine all the good times she'd had with her brother in the past few years and refused to think of the bad. It was this that eventually lulled her to sleep.

She didn't stay that way very long.

Normally, Al's nightmares were either entirely memory or entirely imagination. It was rare that the two crossed so blatantly, but tonight was one of those nights.

_Al stood in the middle of an empty theatre house. It took her a moment to realize she was at Medda's place. She looked around, wondering where the woman could be. _

_"Medda?" she called out curiously. She took a few steps forward, feeling the rustle of her heavy skirt as she walked. She looked down and realized she was in a yellow dress with unending frills and puffy sleeves. Her mother loved it when she wore this dress. In all honestly, Al loved it too. It made her feel like a princess. She twirled once and lost her balance._

_When she fell, the dress ripped. The tearing sounded like a shotgun blasting off. Suddenly, Jack was at her side. _

_"Ma's comin', Al! Ya gotta run!" he pulled her up, eyes wide and filled with panic. _

_They started to run together, but ran into something only seconds later. Al fell on her rear and looked up to see Snyder holding a struggling Jack._

_"Leave 'im alone!" Al tried to get up, but couldn't. She couldn't move. Panic welled up inside her. _

_Snyder laughed and took off his belt. Jack wasn't struggling anymore. He was standing with his hands at his side, clenched into fists, his entire body rigid as he faced her. Snyder stepped back and started whipping Jack with the belt. The buckle whistled through the air each time it struck._

_"Help me," Jack sobbed, pleading, his tears falling in steady streams down his face. _

_Al couldn't respond. She could only scream. Suddenly, the floor opened up beneath her and she fell into darkness, still screaming._

_Then her father was standing before her, his dark hair a mess and his eyes wild. The overbearing smell of alcohol was almost suffocating._

_"Stop that screaming, girl, or I'll give you something to scream about." _

_The threat had the opposite of the desired effect. She screamed louder. Finding herself able to move now, she scrambled onto her knees and tried to crawl away, but her father was there in an instant. He kicked her side and her back repeatedly._

_"Please don't hurt me, Daddy! Please! I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm sorry!" _

"Al! It's a nightmare!"

Al's eyes shot wide open. David was standing over her, arms holding her shoulders down, his eyes only half-open from having been woken in the middle of the night. Acting out of instinct, Al sat up and immediately buried her face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and let her cry like he had earlier that night.

One of his hands stroked her hair as she clutched his shirt like it was her lifeboat.

"Shh. It's okay. It was just a nightmare." David was cooing again in his effort to calm her.

It took her a moment to regain her composure, but she finally pulled away, only then realizing that both Sarah and Les were sitting up in the opposite bed, watching them with both curiosity and a little fear. The latter, she presumed, was from being woken in the middle of the night by what she assumed was her screaming.

"That may have been the cutest moment I have ever witnessed," Sarah said quietly, seemingly talking to no one but herself. Les gave her an odd look and Sarah's cheeks flushed. "I didn't mean to say that out loud," she added bashfully.

"Are you okay?" David asked, directing his attention back to Al, who had moved out of his arms now. He was sitting on the edge of her bed and didn't seem like he was planning to leave.

"Yeah. Just a nightmare," she answered quietly, looking off into the middle distance.

"It must've been real scary," Les said, stifling a yawn.

"Sorry," Al looked at the three in the darkness, their faces barely illuminated by the street lamp out their window. "I didn't mean to wake nobody. Was I loud?"

"A little, yeah. What were you dreaming about?" David asked, studying her face.

"Jack."

"That wasn't all, though. You were mumbling between screams."

Al bit her lower lip, cursing inwardly and wondering how much David heard. "I don't remembah anythin' else."

"You said, 'Please don't hurt me, Daddy.' and then 'I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm sorry.'"

"Don't ring a bell," she lied.

"Where's Jack?" Sarah cut in finally. Al dropped her head into her hands, half out of relief that the attention had been drawn away from her and the rest out of sorrow. God, she missed her brother so much. She couldn't do this without him. "Where is he?"

David stood from the bed and the two left the room wordlessly. Al didn't bother looking up until she heard the pattering of small feet. When she removed her hands from her face, she looked up to find Les standing beside her bed, one arm clutching his pillow like a teddy bear.

"I can't sleep by myself," he said softly, sounding drowsy. Al chuckled softly and lifted up her covers. His face split into a broad smile and he climbed into the bed with her. The nine year old fluffed his pillow and looked up at her as she settled down behind him, her head still supported by her elbow.

"When I have a nightmare, Davy tells me a story to make me feel better. Want me to tell you one?"

Al was touched by the boy's sympathy and couldn't deny him. He started off as soon as she lay down all the way.

"One upon a time, there was this real big ship. It was a pirate ship. But these were good pirates. Captain Les was the captain an' he was the best sword fighter in the whole world."

"I'll bet he was," Al responded sleepily.

"Shh. Don't interrupt," Les said seriously, inciting a soft chuckle from Al that he ignored. "All the pirates listened to everything he told 'em to do. But then these real bad pirates came and they were trying to fight the good pirates. They stole Sarah and Al, some of the best girl pirates in the world. So I- I mean, Captain Les- called David, his first mate, and Cowboy, David's best friend, (Oh, and Runner too!) to help get them back."

"They must have been some really bad pirates if ya needed all those strong boys to save me'n Sarah."

Instead of the stern rebuke she had expected, Les agreed with her. "Yeah, they were real mean. So mean that they tied up you'n Sarah an' put ya in the dungeon. So David, Cowboy, Runner, and Captain Les decided to sneak on board and. . ."

Al fell asleep to the sound of a nine year-old creating his own bedtime story just for her.


	26. Only Thing I Got

_**Author's Note: I don't know how many of y'all are currently following the show, "New Girl", but I am and it's amazing. Zooey Deschanel made a Newsies reference on the second episode and I may have screamed and burst my family's eardrums. :P Haha.  
>My reviewers are the best and I can't help but give a fangirl-esque shriek every time I read a new one y'all wrote. I love y'all's feedback, it means so much to me! So thank you mysterygirl, Ealasaid Una, Eruanna Undomiel, Narniafan96, LucyofNarnia, Jovie Black, Rachel, lc, and Austra for your awesomeness and your reviews. :)<strong>_

**Chapter 26- Only Thing I Got**

_Collapsing in on yourself  
><em>_I don't know why I try  
><em>_Collapsing in on yourself  
><em>_I don't know why you deny_

_~Collapsing: Demon Hunter~_

Al woke up feeling like she'd had too much to drink the night before.

"Come on you two, we're gonna be late if you don't wake up," David chuckled as he spoke.

Al cracked an eye open and groaned as the light hit her eyes. She definitely had a migraine. She blamed it on all the crying she had done last night. She started to sit up and groaned again. Her entire body was stiff and sore. Her ribs were obnoxiously tender and her back felt like it was on fire. She didn't dare stretch.

Les moaned and rolled over, cuddling up closer to her in his half-awake state. His small body practically wrapped itself around her waist.

"You feelin' alright, Al?" Sarah asked from across the room, where she was brushing out her hair. The girl's eyes were bloodshot, likely from both tears and lack of sleep.

Al gave a noncommital grunt.

"Now, Les!" David was getting irritated.

"I'm awake," Les rolled out of bed with a sigh. Al followed, swinging her legs over the side and looking down at her clothes, Sarah's clothes, with a disconcerted look.

"Sorry," she offered after a second.

"Don't worry about it." Sarah was still watching her and knew she was referring to the state of her clothes. "It's not your fault."

Al nodded. "Ya know where my clothes are?"

"Momma washed 'em while we were at the rally," Sarah answered as Les and David left to get dressed in the other room. "They're over there." She pointed to a stack of folded clothes in a small basket at the edge of the room.

Al moved slowly, careful not to jar any of the injuries she hadn't gotten the chance to check yet. She found her clothes and one of Jack's shirts. She had to bite her lip as she set it aside, hoping her brother's night in prison hadn't been too horrible.

She worried about Jack as she dressed. Sarah helped her fix the bandages on her ribs, but didn't say much, for which Al was thankful. Last time Jack was arrested, they had offered bail, but it was eight dollars. She had scrounged and saved like a mad woman at the time. Racetrack had to force her to buy food and she still lost more weight than could possibly be healthy.

Would they even post bail this time? Would she be able to get the money if they did? Yes, she decided, she would be able to get the money. She'd pickpocket and beg her way to getting her brother back, even if it meant going to the Refuge herself. She would find a way.

Still, anxiety ate at her stomach as she made her way to the washroom. She splashed water on her face and looked in the mirror. Her naturally straight hair had weighed down the curls Sarah had given her and made them into large waves that fell around her face. She almost wished she could leave it down, even as she crammed it into her cap. She scrubbed any traces of yesterday's makeup off her face and suddenly found herself crying again, much to her chagrin.

It took a few moments of lingering over the sink before she regained her composure.

_We're gonna get Jack back, ya hear me?_ David's voice bounced around in her head and forced herself to trust in his reassurance. Jack had escaped last time hadn't he? He could escape again if he had to. He wouldn't leave her alone. He couldn't.

Al splashed her face again to rid herself of the tear tracks and forced herself to smile in the mirror.

"You can do this, Al."

The morning passed quickly, but oddly. Al and David did their best to keep spirits up, but it was hard. Jack wasn't there, being his loudmouth self and convincing them they could conquer the world. Racetrack wasn't there to make his quips at anyone who dared give them a funny look. Kid Blink wasn't there to complain about the heat. Mush wasn't there to make them laugh.

Maybe it would have been better if the two didn't feel like dragging their own feet. Al was thankful she had David with her and she was thankful for Les and Runner distracting her from reality. She was thankful that all the boys with her now had been kept out of the bulls' reach. So for that, she plastered on the best smile she could muster and rallied her newsies. She held up her picket sign and screamed about the rights of newsies, staying strong for the boys that were now looking to her for direction.

When Denton came at ten, the boys were growing weary. They normally stayed until lunch, so Al left Skittery and Specs in charge of keeping them in line and together while they were gone. Specs gave her a quick hug before she left and reminded her to keep her chin up.

The courthouse was crowded when they reached it. Al caught sight of Kiver immediately and nodded in acknowledgement. Nearby, the borough leaders of Bronx and Queens were looking irritable, but considerably less antsy than she felt.

"I should be able to get us in on my press pass, but I won't make any promises," Denton was saying as they quick-stepped it toward the overworked receptionist's desk. He looked harried and tired.

"Tell 'em I'm related. They gotta let me into the trial," Al suggested. Denton took her advice and soon found themselves being ushered into a near empty courtroom. She glared at the bulls that lined the doors, even as they allowed her inside.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Racetrack's voice was the first thing Al heard and a smile split her face at the sound of it. "We ain't got five bucks. We ain't even got five cents. Hey, your honor, how about I rolla ya for it? Double or nothin'."

The quip excited laughter from the newsies around him.

"Alright, move along. Move along," the judge waved them away.

"You're honor!" Denton called from beside her. "I'll pay the fines. All of them."

He pushed the two of them over to where the boys stood, behind a sort of barred fence that reached past Al's nose.

"Hey fellas, you alright?" David asked immediately grabbing the edges. "Where's Jack?"

"Where's my bruddah?" Al felt panic rear up in her gut as she scanned the group a second time. Where was he?

"Look, we gotta meet at the restaurant. Everybody. We'll talk." Denton looked as worried as Al felt. She found herself nodding with the others as the judge called for him to pay the clerk.

The sound of chains jangling caused Al to spin on her heel as Jack entered from the other side of the room. His hands were cuffed behind his back and a cop was stationed behind him in case he tried anything. His left cheek was swollen and purple.

"Hey fellas," Jack smirked, then gave his sister a concerned glance. "You alright, Al?"

"Hey Cowboy, nice shinah." Racetrack sniggered at his own joke.

She hurried to her brother, sidestepping the bull who tried to stop her, and threw her arms around his middle. She buried her face in his shirt.

"Al, it's okay. I'm fine." Jack tried and failed to reassure her. "Hey Denton, I guess we made all the papes this time. So how'd my picture look?"

"None of the papers covered the rally," he answered. Al pulled back just enough to see his remorseful expression as he handed the money to the clerk in front of him. "Not even the Sun."

"Case of Jack Kelly," the clerk read aloud, standing.

Al was shoved away from her brother by one of the policemen, who promptly received withering looks from both Jack and David. Her brother was led to the stand.

"Inciting riot. Assault. Resisting arrest."

"Judge Monahan, I'll speak for this young man."

Al didn't see where he'd come from, but somehow Snyder had slunk into the meeting and David had to grab her arm to keep her from pouncing on him and beating the living daylights out of him right then and there. Denton put a hand on her other shoulder, though more for the sake of comforting her than restraint.

"You two know each other. Ain't that nice," Jack commented.

"Aw, hell no," Al growled under her breath. This was not looking good.

"Just move it along, Warden Snyder," the judge answered, looking at his pocket watch.

Al wondered if he realized that this 'waste of time' was dictating the outcome of she and her brother's life. How could he take this lightly?

Snyder looked at Jack with both contempt and pleasure. He was enjoying every moment of this. That sick bastard! Les tried to whisper something to his brother, but David shushed him.

"This boy's real name is Francis Sullivan. His mother's deceased; his father's a convict in the state penitentary. His sister, Melissa, is currently fashioning herself as a boy and going by the alias of 'Al Kelly'," he waved a hand in her direction and pinned her with a look that told her he was gloating over his discovery. She gritted her teeth and glared in response. "He's an escapee from the House of Refuge, where his original sentence of three months was extended to sixth months for disruptive behavior-"

"Like demandin' we eat the food you steal from us," Jack interrupted angrily.

"Followed by an additional six months for attempted escape."

"Attempted? Last time wasn't an attempted escape," he was getting in Snyder's face now. "Remember Snyder? Remember me'n Teddy Roosevelt an' the carriage? Remember Teddy Roosevelt and the carriage?"

Al watched this play out with dread weighing down her entire body. She couldn't tear her eyes away. She couldn't hope for his release. She could only stand there and watch.

"Your honor, I ask that he be taken back to the House of Refuge-"

"No," Al choked, too quiet to be heard by anyone who wasn't standing with her.

"Away for my own good, right? Move along? For my own good an' for what he kicks back to you," Jack interrupted.

"And that the court order his incarceration until the age of twenty-one in the hope that we may yet guide him to a useful and productive life."

"So ordered." The sound of the judge's gavel sucked the air from Al's lungs.

"No!" Les cried.

"No! Jack!" Al ran for her brother, only to be blocked by two policemen. She tried to fight past them, tears already dripping down her face. "Please, Your Honor. He's the only thing I got! Jack!"

"Next," the judge called, sounding incredibly bored.

Jack's eyes were filling with tears and he was trying to blink them back while he struggled half-heartedly against the man holding him. They both knew there was nothing they could do.

David grabbed her by one arm and Denton took her by the other, but she continued to struggle, pulling against them and screaming at the top of her lungs.

"An' where am I supposed to go? I'll kill you, Snyder! Ya hear me! I'll kill ya for takin' him away! Jack! Jack!"

He was gone then, ushered out another door. The bulls started to move in to get her out, but were told off by an irate David, who shoved the nearest one backward when he tried to reach out to them. It wasn't until they were out of the court room that she slumped backward into the cool stone wall and buried her face in her hands.

"I'll go talk to the receptionist again and figure out what I can," Denton said. The sound of his pattering shoes told her when he had walked away. She spun around and slammed the side of her fisted hand into the wall twice, her entire body screaming with outrage. Pain spread through her clenched fist, but she let it. The pain helped her feel like she could control something. Her entire world was falling apart and she needed something to make her feel like she wasn't crumbling with it.

She made to hit it again, but a hand caught her arm.

"Come on, doll. That ain't gonna help nothin'," Racetrack said softly and pulled her around to face him. Al tried to choke back the ensuing sob, but it was no use. Her friend gave a sad smile and pulled her into a hug. Seconds later, she was soaking the shoulder of his shirt with her tears.

"Oh God, what am I gonna do?" Al said when she had finally managed to calm herself. She wiped at her tears with the palms of her hands, feeling self-conscious at the amount of crying she had done in the past two days.

"I'd offah you lodgin' in Brooklyn," Spot hedged, almost awkwardly. She hadn't realized he was there until just now. "But I doubt it'd be safe livin' with my boys. They still got it out for you'n Cowboy."

It was clear that the two boys had watched the entire scene play out. Their worried expressions said everything. Even Spot wasn't his usual cocky, smart-mouthing self. He looked for all the world like he didn't know what to do with himself right now.

"Thanks anyway, Conlon," she answered, more to put him at ease than anything. He nodded curtly and made some excuse before heading out, letting her know he would see the other borough leaders off. That would definitely be helpful, she told him and thanked him again for it.

Luckily, Racetrack was better with teary-eyed girls than the king of Brooklyn. He had dealt with her for years, hadn't he? And he'd been there for her the last time Jack had been put in jail, too.

"Let's get to the restaurant. Some food in ya belly'll do you good." Racetrack put an arm around her waist and lead her through the people whom she now realized were giving her odd looks for the outburst they had likely overheard. Others spared her pitying glances as she was led away by her two friends.


	27. Liar

_**Author's Note: You know you've got Newsies on the brain when you're doing your Sociology book and, when you get to the part about leaders, you start corresponding each type with the type of leaders Jack Kelly, Pulitzer, and Spot Conlon were. Wow. . . :P  
>These may have been some of my favorite reviews yet. Apparently the last chapter actually managed to put a few of y'all in tears. Is it bad that I was excited about that? I guess I'm mostly excited about the fact that I was able to incorporate enough emotional poignancy for it to affect y'all. Anyway, there's more emotional-ness to come (a little in this one, but mostly in upcoming chapters) and I hope y'all enjoy it. A thousand thanks to the reviewers who gave me such wonderful feedback: LucyofNarnia, Austra, mysterygirl, Narniafan96, LC, Rachel, Ealasaid Una, and Eruanna Undomiel!<strong>_

**Chapter 27- Liar**

_We've been down to the bottom  
><em>_Stories, we've got 'em, when we hit rock bottom  
><em>_If you've been there, put your hands in the air  
><em>_To let the lost know that someone cares  
><em>_~Stories (Down to the Bottom): Superchick~_

It wasn't until they reached the restaurant and Al was internally lecturing herself about losing control and crying in front of everyone that she realized David would hardly look at her. The realization made her feel sick. Even as Racetrack pushed her plate closer to her face, she wasn't sure if she could eat it.

The boys in the diner were anxious and rowdy. All except the ones at her table, who were too worried about the state the three strike leaders were in to so much as fidget. Jack and Al were family to them and David was quickly working his way into their hearts. Knowing the first was incarcerated and the latter two in the throes of breakdown didn't exactly put them at ease.

"Eat up, doll. You need your strength," Race reminded her for the umpteenth time.

"It's real good," Les goaded, mouth full of his hot dog. Bits flew from his mouth and she crinkled up her nose in reaction to it.

"Swallow your food 'fore ya talk, Les," she reminded him.

"Eat ya food 'fore _you_ talk, Cap," the kid retorted, eliciting a series of chuckles from around the table. She cracked a small smile and obliged by taking a few bites of her own hot dog, giving him a pointed look when she set it back down a few seconds later. He beamed.

David stood, too antsy to sit, and scanned the copy of the Sun he had snatched on their way out of the courthouse. He had been analyzing it for any sign of the rally last night, as if Denton's word wasn't enough.

The reporter himself made his appearance at that point, heralding cheers from the boys who respected him so much. Al stood when she saw the look on David's face and sidled up beside him. He still looked angry as he sized up the man he had looked up to this morning.

"Why didn't the Sun print the story?" David asked brusquely, dropping the paper on a nearby table.

"'Cause it never happened."

Denton's vague answer kicked up multiple retorts of disbelief.

"Whattaya mean it never happened? You were there!" Racetrack's response was the loudest, reminding the man of what he surely already knew. Al didn't take her eyes off Denton, trying to read his face and understand what was happening.

"If it's not in the papers it never happened," Denton answered bitterly. "The owners decreed that it not be in the paper, therefore. . . I came to tell you fellas goodbye."

As if spirits weren't low enough. This was a kick in the pants to the newsies all around. The strikers fell silent and waited for an explanation.

"W-what happened?" David asked, eyes wide. "Did ya get fired or somethin'?"

"No, I got reassigned- back to my old job as the Sun's ace war correspondent." Was he really making light of the fact that he was ditching them after all this? "They want me to leave right away. The owner thinks I should only cover the really important stories."

Al just stared at him. He was abandoning them? He was just going to walk away after all the trust they had put in him?

David walked back to the pillar where the menu hung, leaning against it as if he had taken a physical blow.

"Wish me luck fellas- at least half of what I wish for you."

"You're kiddin'," Al's mouth felt dry as she looked at him with disgust. "After all the trust we put in you, you're abandonin' us."

"They don't always fire you, Al. . . David," he looked at the two of them. "I would black filed from every paper in the country. Hey," he stepped forward and pulled David gently by the arm, making David turn to look at him. He visibly cringed at the look of sheer disappointment in the boy's face. "I'm a newspaper man. I have to have a paper to write for."

Al stepped forward, moving beside David and crossing her arms over her chest. By the look in his eyes, she knew when Denton caught her unspoken message: If he wasn't for them, he was against them, no matter how many times he claimed otherwise. Denton pursed his lips and pulled a folded up piece of paper out of his coat pocket.

He sighed. "This is the paper I wrote about the rally. I want you to read it at least."

When neither made any move to take it from him, he stuffed it into David's hand and paid the bill. He lingered just long enough to see David crumple the paper up and drop in to the table. Skittery closed the door behind the reporter and leaned against it, arms crossed over his chest, looking like he'd never been so defeated in his life.

"We break Jack out of the Refuge tonight," David announced, looking at her for the first time since the courthouse ordeal. She knew he was angry with her for keeping her real name a secret from him, but she was glad he wouldn't be abandoning them because of it. "From now on, we trust no one but the newsies."

The newsies in the restaurant hopped up, eager to get started in their effort to rescue their leader. Al flashed David a winning smile as he headed up the procession, lingering behind long enough to grab the article Denton had given them and shove it in her pocket. She may be angry at the man, but if Denton had thought it was worth their reading, then maybe it was.

It took a few hours in the Lodge before they came to the conclusion that they hand no idea of how to rescue Jack. None of the boys had ever stayed in the Refuge or even gone near it for fear they would be dragged in and never heard from again. In fact, Racetrack and Al were the only ones who had ever been inside the gates before. Their knowledge added precious little to the deliberations.

They finally decided they would have to let Al dangle by a rope and talk through the window and ask him for a plan of action. She had used it with Racetrack the one time she had gotten the chance to see her brother last time. Surely he would expect it again. Hopefully some of the boys would remember her from last time.

When that was finally decided, the boys disperse in order to wait for the impending darkness of night to fall. Al followed David up to the roof and lit a cigarette, eager to allow the intake of tobacco to calm her system. David's back was turned to her again and his entire body was tense. She wanted to clear the air between them, but didn't know how.

"David-"

"You lied to me." The accusation was true, but it stung. Al took a step backward, unsure of herself. When she didn't answer, David spun around and glared at her, his teeth clenched. "Francis and Melissa Sullivan? Your Ma's dead and your Pa's in prison? What about Santa Fe? What about everything you told me and my family?"

Al looked away, but David continued on.

"What else did you lie to me about, _Melissa_?" When she didn't answer, he turned away. "Figures."

"We never meant to hurt you, David," she finally said, voice quieter than she had hoped. Her hands were shaking, but she ignored them. "Nobody knew our real names. Not even Spot or Racetrack."

"They didn't seem too upset," he huffed.

"That's 'cause they understand that a newsie's past ain't somethin' they're always willin' to share. I told you that before," she paused. "You never cared that Racetrack or Blink never told you their real names."

"_They_ weren't my best friends," David growled, eyes flashing. "_They_ didn't drag me all around New York City getting me into fights and starting strikes that got raided by the police. I trusted you. Both of you. And look at where that got me. I don't even know you."

"You _do_ know me," Al found herself almost pleading. "Look, I'll tell you everythin' if it makes ya happy. It's not like there's anythin' to hide anymore." She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling far more vulnerable than she wanted to be.

David's face lost all traces of anger, as if it had melted away all at once. His gaze now took on a contemplative expression as he sat at the edge of the roof. His legs dangled over the edge. Anger didn't suit him, she decided. She liked it much better when he was like this- thoughtful and concerned. This was the David she had come to know these past couple of days. She sat down beside him and looked out over Manhattan.

"What else did you lie about, Melissa?" he repeated his earlier question, the venom now gone. She flinched, but allowed it, clearly able to hear the sting of betrayal in his voice. The venom may have left, but the feeling that he had been stabbed in the back hadn't.

Al racked her brain and spat out the first thing that popped into her head. "My foist black eye."

"What?" That seemed to catch David off-guard.

"It wasn't exactly a lie, just a half truth," Al sighed. "I got it at six, like I said, and Jack shadowed me for nearly two weeks, like I said."

"So what was the part you didn't tell me?"

"My mom was the one I mouthed off to. She's the one who gave it to me."

David sucked in a surprised breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him looking at her, studying her in the afternoon sun. She refused to look back, keeping her eyes studiously on the landscape before her. She plowed on.

"Jack really does wanna go to Santa Fe. He says we'll find honest woik there and Snyder won't be able to track us down. Both our parents were abusive. My father's in the slammah for killin' our Ma not long aftah we ran away," she rattled off the information as quickly as she dared. "Oh, an' my dream last night was 'bout them an' Jack an' Snyder. The part you heard was my dad kickin' me."

Al kept her gaze stoically ahead of her, afraid to see David's expression- afraid to become any more vulnerable than she had just made herself. She jumped when she felt something touch her hand and looked down. David had slid his hand into hers and now it was he who looked forward toward the Manhattan skyline. He seemed to be processing the information, but his warm hand told her he had both forgiven and cast his lot with her. She couldn't help but smile as relief washed over her. It was as if his proffered hand had given her just the strength she needed and she found herself starting to relax, if only slightly.

"How old were you when you ran away?" he asked after a few moments of silence.

"Seven."

"What happened?"

Al let out a slow breath and closed her eyes, not eager to replay those events in her mind, but knowing David needed (and for some reason wanted) to hear it. She would do anything to keep him from looking at her like she had driven a knife into his back again. David waited until she was ready to speak and for that she was grateful.

"Jack and I had been hidin' from Ma all day. In some ways, she was worse than the old man, 'cause ya never knew if she was gonna be happy today or stark ravin' mad. Today she was mad 'cause I'd ripped my nylons on accident that mornin'.

"Daddy came home, drunk as usual, hollerin' for me'n Jack to come right there. I wanted to stay hidden, but Jack said we had to go or he'd find us hiding an' be even madder at us."

_Al nodded, knowing her brother was right, but terrified nonetheless. No matter how many times Daddy came home, fists swinging and eyes angry, she never got used to it. Jack pulled her out from the corner of the closet and gripped her hand tightly for support._

_She took a deep breath and followed her brother._

_"This house is a mess!" her father raged upon seeing them edge down the stairs. He met them halfway with swaying steps. Spittle landed on Al's face as she stared up at him, wide-eyed. He was pointing at Jack's stick horse that lay by the couch._

_Suddenly his hand was knocking Al to the side and into the railing. Jack cried out as his father put a hand on the back of his head and shoved him down the stairs. The eight year-old boy went rolling down until he smacked against the tile floor._

_"Francis!" she screeched, terrified when her brother didn't immediately get up. _

_Then her father's hand was fisted in her hair, yanking her down the steps with more force than necessary. Al had tears streaming down her face and she was crying for her brother._

_"Want to know what your brother has done for ya, Melissa? He's gotten you in trouble, that's what," her father mocked, picking up the stick horse and shoving her forward. She faltered, but that was nothing compared to the fire that shot through her body when she felt the wooden end of Jack's horse whip her back. She hit the ground, hands barely catching her as she started to scream. __"Stop screamin', girl, or I'll give you something to scream about."_

_Al tried to crawl away, but was rewarded with another rap on the back, making her scream louder. She made another attempt and her father grabbed her by her ankle and pulled her back toward him, likely preparing to hit her again._

Thwack! _The sound of something hard hitting flesh that wasn't hers surprised Al, but she didn't understand what had happened until she felt an unsteady Jack pulling her up off the ground. _

_"Run, Lissa, run," he prompted when she was on her feet. The bellowing roar that her father let loose at that point put the fear of God in her and she took off with her brother like a shot. The two fled out the backdoor and clear across Brooklyn until they collapsed in an alleyway near the docks. There they stayed until, two days later, they were discovered by one of Quick Fist's boys and brought to the Newsboys Lodging House in Brooklyn._

When Al finished, she opened her eyes and found David watching her with an expression she couldn't quite place. It was somewhere between concern and pity, she guessed, as if he couldn't imagine the horrors she had been put through.

_And I hope he never does_, she found herself thinking. _'Cause when he understands, it'll be because he's been subject to them himself._

"Thank you for trusting me with that," David finally said after a long silence. "I know it was hard."

"Yeah, well, you're worth it," she responded, laying a head on his shoulder, his hand still holding her own.


	28. Better

_**Author's Note: I finished this story on Monday! Woohoo! It is complete now and on my laptop, so you can do a little dance. Well, I'd better get moving because today is my brother's 18th birthday and we're going to go have champagne on the Eiffel Tower in about an hour or so. Thank you so much to my reviewers: Eruanna Undomiel, LucyofNarnia, Ealasaid Una, mysterygirl, Austra, Rachel, choirbandgeek, and LC. Here's some virtual champagne for each of you. :P**_

**Chapter 28- Better**

_I can't tell you what it really is  
><em>_I can only tell you what it feels like  
><em>_And right now, it's a steel knife in my windpipe  
><em>_I can't breathe  
><em>_~Love the Way You Lie: Eminem~_

When the two newsies came down from the roof, Runner came skidding to a stop in front of them.

"Did you two make up?" he asked, cocking his head to the side, before spinning around and deflecting an oncoming blow from Les. Apparently the two had been sword fighting.

"Yeah," Al responded, ruffling the boy's dirty blonde hair, which was looking dirtier by the second. "When was the last time you took a bath?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but was distracted as Racetrack called, "Pay up, Blink. They ain't fightin' no more!"

"Race, what did Jack say about gambling while the strike was on?" Al sighed, squeezing past the two fighting boys and into the bunk room.

"To not to," Racetrack answered sullenly. Kid Blink whooped and Al rolled her eyes.

When Al, David, Racetrack, Kid Blink, Skittery, and Mush left for the Refuge, Les refused to be left behind. No matter what they used to persuade him, he wouldn't be denied. Finally, they gave in and he clung to Kid Blink the entire way. Al couldn't help but chuckle as Blink shouldered the rope they had snatched and tried not to look too bored while Les spoke in an animated whisper.

"We're here," she called, pulling up as she spotted the black iron gates. "There's the window we used last time." She pointed into the courtyard at a barred third story window. Ideas were flying through her head at ninety miles an hour and she was itching to discuss them with her brother. Maybe she could distract the Warden by making a scene in his office while the boys tried to break him loose. If not, Jack would surely think of something. He was the most clever person she had ever known.

A half-hearted police whistle sent Al and the boys scrambling behind two pillars of the opposite building that would shield them from view.

"It's Jack. It's Jack!" Les said excitedly. David grabbed at his brother and shushed him as a carriage approached. Al studied her brother as it pulled up. He looked exhausted yet defiant. She bit her lower lip as he climbed into the carriage, one hand cuffed securely to the warden.

"Where're they takin' 'im, Dave?" Mush asked.

David took off his hat and stood. "There's one way to find out."

Al stood as she caught his drift, the others doing the same.

"We'll meet you guys at the square," he said, watching as the guards went back into the Refuge. "Racetrack, watch 'im." He handed Les over and waved for Al to come with him as he took off after the carriage. She followed without hesitatioon.

He reached the carriage first, landing soundlessly on the back, and held out a hand to her. She took it and managed to crouch across from him, the two hanging on to the back for dear life as the horse picked up speed.

When they found themselves rolling through a gate, Al held her breath and tried not to close her eyes, falling prey to the _if I can't see you, you can't see me_ myth. David pressed a finger to his lips as the carriage came to a stop and they stepped off, keeping their bodies pressed to the carriage as best they could, keeping to the shadows.

"Get him inside," a gray haired man ordered from the stairs. Jack stepped out and David waved for her to move to the other side of the carriage and hide behind it's large rear wheel. She peered past it to her brother, wishing she had found a way to talk to him. Snyder had taken off the handcuff, she saw, and was gripping Jack's arm. Her brother pulled away, but Snyder latched on again.

"David?" Al whispered when everyone was inside.

"Down here."

She moved forward, careful to stay in the shadows of the carriage, and found David pulling out a large nail from the hinge of the carriage that held the horse's yoke in place. She grinned at his ingenuity.

"Be careful. That horse'll kick ya," she cautioned.

The two found a good spot to hide, close to the house so they wouldn't be spotted through the window. Al's fingers itched for a smoke, but she resisted the urge. This was not the time or place.

"Why do ya think he's been in there so long? What's Pulitzer want with 'im?" Al asked after nearly ten long minutes had gone by. Everyone knew the Pulitzer estate. She was getting antsy standing here. Her brother was somewhere inside, undergoing God know's what, and she was loitering with David hoping they didn't get caught and arrested for tresspassing. She fidgeted with her cap to give herself something to do.

"Don't know," was David's only answer. His eyes were fixed firmly on the door. He had one hand wrapped around hers and she wondered if it was because they might need to run at any second or because he wanted to hold her hand. She wondered if he had these feelings for her that she had finally admitted to having for him.

She didn't get to let her mind wander for very long, because it wasn't long after that when the doors opened and the two stood. She saw her brother looking down as he walked as if he were deep in thought.

"Jack!" David yelled beside her, making her jump unintentionally. He waved his free hand. "Come on! Come on!"

It took her brother a second to react, but then Jack was sliding down the rail of the stairs, Snyder making futile attempts to grab at him, and running toward them. When he was almost there, his rescuers turned and fled with him.

Al heard the startled cry of the carriage driver, but didn't turn to see the horse free his reigns from the driver's grasp. She was too busy running, feeling like her heart was both soaring and beating erratically. She was terrified over what would happen if Snyder caught them now, but another part of her brain screamed, _Who cares? We got Jack! We saved him!_

They ran for a good five minutes, dodging through alleyways until it was necessary for the three to stop and breathe. They were in an abandoned back street that wasn't an alleyway, but wasn't exactly an industrious road- at least not at this hour.

The moment they stopped, Al leaned over, locking her arms against her bent knees in order to catch her breath.

"You should have done this! They could put you in jail!" Jack yelled, sounding irritated.

"I don't care," David responded flippantly, starting to walk toward Al.

"Come 'ere." Jack didn't wait for him to come, but grabbed him by the collar of the jacket he'd worn. Jack shoved him up against the wall, not roughly, but enough to show he was upset.

"What are you doin', Jack?" Al asked, righting herself and moving closer to the two. Her brother ignored her.

"What about your family, huh? What happens to them if you go in jail? You don't know nothin' about jail." Jack was in his face, making his point clear. "Now thanks for what you done, but you get outta here."

"What the hell, Jack?" Al shoved his extended arm, that was pointing down the alleyway.

"I don't understand." David looked as confused as Al felt.

"I don't understand either, but just get out of here!" Jack was yelling again and David looked like someone had just punched him in the gut.

"Jack! Cut it out!" Al shoved him in the chest this time, wanting to know why he was treating their friend this way and why he still hadn't said a word to her. Jack turned and pushed her backward by the shoulders.

"You too, Al! Beat it! The bulls'll be here any minute an' yous two don't needa be here!"

Al grit her teeth and shoved him again, angry that Jack was treating them like this. How could do this?

"You ain't goin' back there!" she shouted back as he stumbled.

"I don't gotta choice!"

"Shh! Someone'll hear you," David warned.

Their voices lowered, but not substantially.

"Whattaya mean ya ain't got a choice?" Al asked in a rushed whisper.

Jack jerked his head away and his body followed as if he were putting up a wall between himself and his two rescuers. Al could feel the tears pricking at her eyes as she reached out to grasp his shoulder, but she wouldn't cry again. She couldn't. Or at least, she thought she couldn't. When Jack shrugged her hand off and took off running in the other direction, she found herself choking back a sob.

She watched as Snyder's carriage came rumbling by him and he climbed on willingly. He sat and dropped his head in his hands, pushing away Snyder's hand when it rested possessively on his shooulder, before it drove away.

She found her knees hitting the cobblestone pavement before she knew what was happening. She was hiccupping her sobs, but no more than two tears fell. She didn't have any tears left to cry right now.

Al punched the stones in front of her and bit her lip, letting the pain give her some sort of control over what was happening. She didn't care when she saw the small blood stain it left on the dirty rock. She didn't care that the coppery taste in her mouth was a little more of her blood being shed. She didn't even care that she didn't know where David was, or whether he was still here. Her mind kept replaying a single phrase, like her mind was trying to make her go crazy. Or maybe she already was crazy and this was just testament to the fact.

_He doesn't want you._

Just like her father hadn't wanted her. Just like her mother hadn't wanted her.

Maybe she just wasn't worth wanting.

God, it hurt every time the phrase went pounding in her head. It was like a knife being driven into her chest. In and out, in and out. It couldn't be true, could it? Jack had always been there for her, hadn't he? Maybe she was too much for him. Maybe the stress of having to take care of her had finally gotten to him. Maybe she had finally stopped being worth it to him.

No, no. That wasn't Jack. That wasn't her brother. Her brother would never abandon her. Her brother would never believe that she was too much for him to handle. Then again, he had just run from her, straight into Snyder's waiting arms.

Her entire body was shaking now and the ground before her looked blurry, a weird mixture of yellow and brown. She was having trouble breathing. _I'll be better!_ she wanted to scream. _I won't be such a handful! I can be better!_ But Jack wouldn't hear her. He was long gone. Back at the Refuge. Back at the place of nightmares.

And he'd run from her to get to it.

It hurt. Oh God, it hurt so much.


	29. Seeing Things

_**Author's Note: It's funny how writing a more emotionally charged scene like that last one I did changes the movie for me. I was rewatching the "Jack's a Scabber" scene so I could rewrite this chapter and almost cried when David was shaking Race, begging for his help before Jack walked out, then again at the reactions of Mush and the other newsies. It's just so heartbreaking!  
>In completely unrelated news, my brother and I went birthday shopping to get him some clothes yesterday and I convinced him of the awesomeness of suspenders after finding a super cool shirt that had them attached. He didn't buy that shirt because of the price, but he'll be buying some suspenders soon enough. Success! :P<br>Thanks to my awesome reviewers who made my day with their comments: LucyofNarnia, Ealasaid Una, Mysterygirl, LC, Austra, and Narniafan96 . Here's some virtual suspenders for ya! :P **_

**Chapter 29- Seeing Things**

_I'll save your seat  
><em>_'Cause you don't stand for what you preach  
><em>_You're singing with a broken string  
><em>_Tell me what you really mean  
><em>_Do you know what you are?  
><em>_~Rollerblades: Eliza Doolittle~_

_It's like the world is crashing down around me_.

It was her first coherent thought upon waking and it made her feel like she had forgotten how to breathe. Her heart slammed against her chest like it was trying to escape.

It wasn't until she swung her legs over the edge of the bed that she realized she had slept the previous night in Sarah's bed. David's sister was still asleep next to her. The same went for David and Les in their own bed.

Al didn't know how she had gotten here last night. She didn't remember if she had walked or if she had been carried. She didn't even know if she had gone back to the square with David or if he had gone to meet the others after bringing her home. It was all a weird, hazy blur.

Someone had removed her boots and her hat for her and she now put them both back on, made a quick trip to the washroom to relieve herself and wash her face, and slipped out the window of her friends' bedroom. After a moment's hesitation, she decided to climb back in and leave a note before she headed to the Lodge. The sky was gray with the earliest light of dawn and she walked briskly in the morning cold.

The more she thought about last night, the more she remembered. By the time she reached the Lodge, she remembered David saying something about her needing to breathe regularly or she would pass out. She remembered hearing his labored breathing above her and his arms around her back and behind her knees as he carried her. She remembered Mush's worried expression as he leaned over her, calling her name. She remembered Sarah dabbing her forehead with a wet cloth.

Al dropped her cigarette butt on the ground before stepping into the Lodge and immediately heading up the stairs. Kloppman was just coming out of the bunk room, having woken up the boys, and gave her a lopsided smile before heading down the stairs to do whatever it was he did in the mornings.

"Heya boys," Al said when she entered the room. Her voice was more hoarse than she had expected and she coughed to clear it. She noticed, with a pang, that her and Jack's bunk bed was still unoccupied.

"Mornin' Al." Skittery's voice was softer than usual and he approached her as he would a frightened animal that might haul off and bite him. It made her angry, but she tried to supress it by pressing her lips together in irritation.

"Mornin', doll!" Racetrack came from the other side and clapped her on the back. "How're ya feelin'?"

She let out a sigh of relief. Leave it to Race to call her a doll and thankfully not treat her like a porcelain one. "Bettah."

He nodded and no one pressed her. Most everyone was getting ready and ignored her until they were fully awake. She didn't intend to address them until they were. When she finally opened her mouth, they fell silent and listened.

"You all know Jack's in the Refuge," she began, putting on a mask of indifference. "But we ain't gonna let that stop us. Snyder an' Pulitzer are laughin' at us right now, thinkin' they got us beat, but we can do this- with or without Jack. He woulda wanted us to. We're finishin' this on our terms."

She didn't wait for a reaction or a response, but promptly turned on her heel, walked down the stairs, and right on out the door. She was lighting up a cigarette when David came around the corner and walked straight for her.

"Cig?" she offered. David gave a curt nod and she handed it to him. She decided they both deserved their own smoke after a day like yesterday and lit herself another as the boys started trickling out. They seemed more subdued than usual and it wasn't just them. When they had all gathered at the World Distribution Center, Al and David had to give another quick speech about the fact that the strike was not over just because Jack wasn't there. Al told them that, as Cowboy's second-in-command, they were to listen to her for newsie direction until Jack was back. If anyone had a problem with that, they could see her afterward. She didn't directly say that she would soak them, but it was implied well enough for them to get the picture.

David helped her down just in time for Spot to come sauntering up. The expression on both her and David's face, plus the blaring fact that Jack was still gone, kept him from his usual business of doing whatever it took to irritate Al. The cockiness was still evident in his eyes and the way he carried himself, that part of him never left, but he didn't try to flaunt it today.

"Nice speech," he told them, hooking his thumbs behind his suspenders.

"Thanks," David answered for her. She felt too tired to bother answering. Like it was taking all of her strength to get through today's strike. Maybe she would go back to the Lodge and take a nap after they were done. Yeah, that sounded like a perfect idea. How late had she been out last night anyway?

Racetrack came up beside them as the newsies assembled in front of the gates for their protest, asking Spot why he wasn't in Brooklyn. He answered something about Kiver taking over for the day. Al risked a sidelong glance at David, who had bags under his eyes. She wondered if he had fallen asleep immediately upon getting home last night or if he had stayed up trying to figure out what was going on with Jack. He hadn't told any of the guys what had transpired, she knew that much, likely because he was trying to figure it out himself. He was probably hoping to get more clarity on the matter later.

"Stop the World! No more papes!" someone started chanting. It caught on and then they were all screaming it, throwing their picket signs high with enough force to nearly dislodge them from their fingertips. The gates opened and it looked like the traitorous newsies were up to their old antics again. Al let out sigh that turned her stomach as the the carriage flew past them, nearly trampling half the boys. They reassembled, but started shoving one another. They were anxious and antsy, trying to figure out how to stop these guys without resorting to violence.

"Remembah, boys, no soakin' 'em!" she yelled as a reminder. It didn't make an impact. David rushed forward, trying to get some of them to stop, but it kept spreading. The infighting was growing worse. He grabbed Racetrack by the shoulders after a few seconds, when he saw that no one was listening.

"Race, please help me!" he yelled over the din, looking panicked. His nerves were clearly frayed. Racetrack knocked his hands off and glared.

"Alright, I ain't deaf!" he yelled back.

Al joined them in getting the boys to calm down and she was glad to see Spot join the effort. As they calmed, though, she noticed the way he suddenly stiffened. She wondered why.

"Race, come here. You too, Al." He was still stiff and she found herself placing a hand on his shoulder as if it would comfort him. Not that she had any comfort to give. He didn't relax, but he didn't shrug her off either.

"What?" Racetrack asked. David came up alongside Al, trying to find out what was going on, just as she was.

"Tell me I'm seein' things. Just tell me I'm seein' things."

Al took her hand off his shoulder, trying to see around the shoulders of the bulls that were now surrounding the gates. Even if the newsies had wanted to start a fight today, they wouldn't have gotten far. The World was prepared today. Why was that?

"No, you ain't seein' things," Racetrack responded, sounding all too bewildered. "That's Jack. What's he doin'?"

She caught sight of her brother seconds after her friend's claim. He was dressed in the fanciest clothes Al had ever seen him don. The gray suit favored him and he looked nice, all the way from his black cap down to his shiny new shoes. Weasel was holding his arm, but it was the fact that Jack was holding a stack of newspapers that made Al lose the ability to speak. His face was a mask of indifference and she couldn't tell what emotion that mask was hiding.

"But he's dressed like a scabbah," Mush said from behind them. By now Jack had caught the attention of the entire crowd. He pushed forward to a gap between two bulls, sounding nearly frantic. "Jack? Look at me, will ya? Come on, it's me, Mush! Look at me! What're you doin', Jack!"

It was Kid Blink's turn to react. He pushed past his best friend, angrier than Al thought she had ever seen him. "This ain't happenin'! What're you doin', Jack! Come on!"

He was pushed back into the crowd and little Boots reacted in turn. "Hey, what is this? Where'd you get them clothes?"

"Mr. Pulitzer picked them out hisself. A special gift to a special new employee," Weasel responded, confirming Al's worst fears. She threw a hand over her mouth, both out of shock and out of the fear she would throw up right then and there.

"Look at 'im in in his little suit!" Racetrack growled dangerously. It was rare for her to see him like this and it scared even her. "Ya bum! I'll soak ya! Ya fake!"

"No, no, no. Let me get my hands doity," Spot's Irish temper finally erupted as he pushed past Racetrack and jumped between the guards, nearly hurdling over them in his angry attempt to get at Jack. Mush, Kid Blink, and Racetrack jumped forward and had to pull him off of the bulls and back into the crowd before he hurt himself or got dragged off to the Refuge himself. Still, he could be heard raging, "I'll murder ya!"

David paced in front of the bulls, trying to catch Jacks' eye, but he was unsuccessful.

"Oh, you wanna talk to 'im," Weasel said in faux realization. He waved David forward. "Sure. Come on."

The bulls parted partially to let him in. He turned around and grabbed Al by the hand, pulling her out of her dazed stupor and out of the crowd toward Jack. The police tried to keep her from coming through, but she yanked off her cap, letting her hair spill out around her face. She then fitted the cap back over her head.

"I'm his sistah," was all she had to say and they didn't question her. They let her through with David.

As they stepped through, still hand in hand, Weasel narrowed his eyes at her.

"Well if it ain't little Melissa Sullivan," he sneered. "Go on ahead."

"Nice nose, Weasel," she retorted, sneering smugly at the crooked cartilage that she was responsible for. He glowered.

David let go of her hand as they both faced Jack, waiting for him to speak, to say something that would make them understand. Surely they just didn't have all the facts. Surely Jack hadn't actually sold them out.

Jack gave Weasel a disgusted glance and stepped further away from his listening ears. David and Al followed.

It was David who broke the silence. "So this is why you didn't escape last night."

"Yeah," Jack responded barely audible.

"You're a liar!" David seethed and at first, Al thought, _Yeah, that's it! He's lying for some reason. This wasn't really why he left me._ But he continued. "You lied about everything. You lied about your parents being in Santa Fe- 'cause they aren't. Al told me about them. You didn't even tell me your real name."

Jack's brow furrowed as he looked at Al, taken off-guard by the fact that she had told David about their past. She looked away. She couldn't even bear to look at his face right now. Her mouth felt dry. She didn't have anything to say to him.

"So?" Jack finally responded. "What d'you wanna do about it, Dave?"

"I don't understand you, Jack," David was wearing that same look of betrayal he had carried at the courthouse. "Do you know what state she was in when you went back last night? I had to carry her back. _Carry her!_ I don't think she was even lucid until this morning."

Something flickered across Jack's face before it settled back into that stony poker face of his. He tried to touch her cheek, but she took a step back, leaving his hand empty and cold. She searched his eyes now, wanting to understand, begging for answers.

"I did this for us."

It didn't feel like an explanation. It felt like a slap to the face.

"You left me," she answered through clenched teeth; the first words she had spoken to him since last night.

She started to turn away. She couldn't handle this conversation right now. No, it was too much. She couldn't do this.

Jack grabbed her arm and spun her back around.

"You don't understand, Davy?" Jack asked. "Let me spell it out for ya. Ya see, we ain't nevah had anyone tuckin' us in at night- like you. It's just us. We gotta look out for each othah, alright?"

Al yanked her arm out of her brother's grip. "That ain't no excuse," she growled.

"You had the newsies!" David retorted. Al didn't miss the fact that he spoke in past tense.

"Aw, what'd bein a newsie ever get me but a dime a day an' a few black eyes?"

"It gave us a family," Al responded. He ignored her.

"I can't afford to be a kid no more, Dave. For the first time in my life, I've got money in my pockets. Real money! Money. You understand? I got more on the way an' as soon as I collect, I'm gone, I'm away, alright?"

"Well I hope you're fine with going by yourself, then. 'Cause I don't even know who you are anymore an' I sure as hell ain't goin' anywhere with you." Al started to walk away again, and, as expected was caught by the arm again. She started to wrestle her appendage out of her brother's grip, only to realize he was putting something in her hand.

He let go and she stopped long enough to see that he'd placed half a dozen quarters on her palm. She turned back around and let them fall to the cobblestone with a series of clinks. She walked into the crowd and straight to Racetrack's open arms. She gave him a brief hug before taking up her station beside him, glaring at her traitorous brother as he finished talking to David. Weasel had picked up the coins and handed them back to Jack with a clearly amused grin.

Where Al had once felt pain, she now felt numb. She watched as David was dragged away from Jack after trying to go at him. The bulls escorted Jack away with Weasel.

The newsies dispersed for the day not long afterward. Al reminded them to show up tomorrow. "This is not over!" she had told them. But today they would accept their defeat. Les went on about his theory that Jack was a spy, but no one had the heart to listen to him, yet neither would they shatter his hope.

Racetrack and Spot said they were gonna go get a drink while Al, David, and Les headed back to the Lodge together to make sure the boys were under control. Spot clapped Al on the shoulder, looking more than a little sorrowful.

"I wish I had been seein' things."


	30. Don't You Dare

_**Author's Note: Sorry I didn't get to post this yesterday. I was up all night packing and then was flying all day today. We had a plane ride from Charles de Gaul to Heathrow to Houston. I finally got a good enough internet connection to post this chapter now. I'll try to post again on Wednesday, but we'll just have to see. This whole next week is going to be pretty hectic with me jumping from house to house before I move in with my best friend. I've got a bunch of people to see and at least one party to attend and a whole lot of craziness.  
>Thanks to my amazing reviews for just being incredibly awesome! Narniafan96, Lucy Conlon, Austra, LucyofNarnia, mysterygirl, Rachel, and Ealasaid Una- y'all rock! :)<strong>_

**Chapter 30- Don't You Dare**

_Uh-oh  
>We're in trouble<br>Something's come along and it's burst our bubble  
><em>_Yeah, yeah  
><em>_Uh-oh  
>We're in trouble<br>~Trouble:Cast of St. Trinians~ _

The headache that had been tugging at the front of her brain blossomed into a full blown migraine as Al turned the corner onto Duane street.

"Seriously?" she cried, throwing her hands up in the air. David just groaned beside her.

Just in front of the Lodging House, dozens of boys were yelling and shoving each other about Jack, Al, the strike, or anything else that struck their fancy. She could already see Kid Blink holding two boys around ten or eleven years of age apart and yelling at them to shut up and stop fighting before he made them stop. Listener was hiding behind Specs, who was yelling at one of the boys Al knew lived a few streets down with a pack of newly teenaged boys in a crowded alleyway. Kloppman was standing at the door looking like he wasn't sure what to do and the fact was frustrating him beyond belief. Mush seemed to be trying to get him to go inside and sit down.

Al hooked her pinkies around the corners of her bottom lip and let out a shrill whistle that made everyone stop and turn toward her.

"What the hell is goin' on?" she yelled when she was right on the edge of the fray. "I leave you alone for ten minutes an' this is what happens?" She reached up and pressed against her left temple with the first two fingers of her left hand. "Kloppman, go on inside. I'll take care o' this," she told him apologetically. He seemed to hesitate, but listened to her direction. Mush looked immensely relieved.

"Now," Al huffed, glaring at the newsies before her. "This is not how we handle our angah." She felt like she was scolding a rabble of toddlers. "If ya got somethin' you're upset about, come talk to me an' we'll figure it out in an orderly mannah."

The display of leadership seemed to calm the boys at least a little and Al found she didn't have to do it all by herself. David, Mush, Skittery, Kid Blink, and Specs started fanning out to explain the the kids what was going on and that all was not lost due to Jack's absence. She sent Runner inside with enough money to pay for another night for a few of the Lodge boys who needed help, but most of her problems came from the transfer of leadership.

"I ain't listenin' to no goil tellin' me how to sell my papes," one boy with rusty hair and eyes too far apart grumbled.

"Good thing ya ain't got any papes to sell, then," Skittery answered for her.

Multiple conversations ran along the same lines. Some questioned her loyalty, seeing as Jack was now a scabber, but most denied her ability. She was able to get most of them as least pleased enough to stop complaining, but her patience wore thin with others.

"You forget I've soaked ya more'n once, Grub, an' I can do it again."

Nearly an hour had passed and Al was growing weary of all this fussing. She was sick and tired of the questions and the challenges. She may have promised Davy no violence during the strike, but this wasn't strike business. This was newsie business.

"Don't make me laugh, Cap," he scoffed, though he knew better than to actually deny the truth of her statement. He stepped forward, towering over her in an attempt to intimidate her. "You ain't got the right to be leadah just 'cause ya bruddah was Cowboy."

Al's frown deepened, but she didn't step back or even bother responding. She just raised an eyebrow and glared.

Runner decided to come to her defense at that point, though. "Al's the best newsie evah! 'Course she has the right to be leadah!" He shoved Grub backward, trying to knock him away from the older girl.

"Knock it off, runt," Grub shoved Runner's head to the side, jerking his neck and sending the boy sprawling onto the dirt. Runner was back up in a second, eyes bright with fury, but Al had already shoved Grub by the shoulders.

"Don't you touch 'im," she hissed dangerously.

"Oh? An' what're you gonna do about it?"

Before he had time to draw another breath, Al's fist connected with the bottom of Grub's jaw. His head jerked backward at the impact and he growled before throwing a swing back at her. She stood about half a head shorter than him and was half his body weight, but she knew she had the advantage. She danced just out of the reach of his fist and kicked him in the stomach before he had the chance to recover. Grub found himself on his back, the air knocked out of him. Seconds later, Al was holding him a few inches above the dirt, the front of his collar fisted in her hand, her face inches from his and her hair spilling forward and touching his cheeks. Her free hand hovered in a fist next to her cheek, ever ready to strike.

"You challenge me or touch one o' my boys like that again an' I'll personally throw you outta Manhattan." She dropped him on the ground, hard, and walked over to where Mush and Blink sat on the stoop of the Lodging House. She didn't spare a backward glance.

"Nice moooooove, Al." She did turn at the unmistakeable voice of a very drunk Racetrack, however. Spot had one of the boy's arms over his shoulders. The king of Brooklyn looked more than a little irritated.

"I told 'im to stop aftah two," Spot said, incredibly put out.

"You've gotta be kiddin' me," Al was halfway through twisting her hair up into her cap, but she lost her grip as she laid eyes on the two. "What the hell? I do _not_ need this right now!" It wasn't like Racetrack to get drunk and now was definitely not the best time for him to take up the habit.

David was already going over to help Spot by shouldering Race's other arm. Specs went to relinquish Spot and the latter straightened, stretching his back with a look of displeasure.

"Brooklyn stands behind Al as leadah of 'Hattan." He announced his support loudly, making certain that everyong heard him. "Anyone who opposes her is opposin' me." He seemed to glare at every newsie in turn before tipping his hat toward Al. She nodded in appreciation, letting out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding.

He walked straight for Brooklyn after that, leaving the Manhattan newsies in his wake. Specs and David took the stumbling Racetrack upstairs and Al looked over to Kid Blink.

"I'm gonna take a walk," she said, blowing a stream of air out between her lips.

"I'll make sure no one tries to follow ya," he responded, a knowing look in his blue eye as he regarded her. She smiled thankfully, glad he understood that she wanted to be alone. It was the reason she had decided to tell him in the first place.

"Thanks." She started to walk away, but stopped, turning back to him. "Give Davy a cig when he gets out. He prolly needs one."

Kid Blink chuckled, but nodded and Al found her feet taking her where they chose. She was glad to be away from the boys and by herself. She needed some fresh air. She needed to breathe.

She pulled out her last cigarette, making a mental note to buy more on the walk back. Right now, she wanted as much time with as little human interaction as possible.

As luck would have it, though, she found herself on an extremely crowded street a few minutes later. She pushed her way through, eager to get somewhere she could have some elbow room and fewer dirty looks.

_My hair!_ she realized with a half-grin. _That's why they're all looking at me weird._ She chuckled to herself and pulled off her cap, twisting her hair up into it. Her hair had been hanging loose since she revealed herself as Jack's sister to the bulls that morning.

It was only seconds later when she heard a voice she really wasn't ready to hear yet.

"Extry, extry! Mayor's got a new goil! Wife outraged!"

She looked up and locked eyes with her brother, who was at the corner with a paper raised in mid-wave, probably about fifty feet in front of her. Al froze as a man tried unsuccessfully to buy a paper from Jack, but the boy waved him away, not tearing his eyes away from his younger sister.

It wasn't until someone shoved into the back of her right shoulder that she was knocked back into reality. Her frozen expression melted into an angry frown and she dropped her cigarette in front of her. Stomping on it, she used that foot to spin around and leave him standing there.

"Al! Al! Please talk to me, Ali!"

Al grit her teeth and stopped in her tracks, twisting back to face him. He had to skid to a stop in order to keep from slamming into her.

"Don't you dare call me that, Jack! Don't you dare call me 'Ali' after what I've been through today 'cause o' you!"

Jack adjusted the newspapers he held and Al curled her lip at them in disgust. He sighed dejectedly and jerked his head toward the alleyway, eyes pleading. She almost refused him. She almost walked away right then, but she knew he would only follow her. She huffed angrily and nodded, following him so they could speak in private and without people running into them every few seconds.

"Ya shouldn't be walkin' around by yaself, Al. It ain't safe." He was looking at her with this odd mixture of hurt and concern plastered on his face. The mask he had worn earlier that day was gone, but her anger wasn't.

"That ain't your concern anymore."

"Of course it's my concoin! You're still my sistah." Jack was frustrated. "Why aren't any of the boys with ya? Where's Davy?"

"Ya wanna know why I'm by myself, Jack? Because I had to get away. Everyone's eithah consolin' me for have a traitah as a bruddah or tryin' to challenge my authority as the new 'Hattan newsie leadah." As she said it aloud, she felt the blood rush from her face. It wouldn't be long before the other boroughs started finding out about the power shift in Manhattan and they would be coming down, pestering her and challenging her authority even more. "Oh God, I do not have time for this." Thank God Brooklyn had her back!

"Don't _be_ the leadah then," Jack said. He looked like he wanted to help, even though she could tell he was a bit stunned at the news that his sister had stepped into his shoes as leader. "Let Racetrack do it."

For a second, she had the urge to just throw herself into her brother's arms. She needed comfort right now. She needed the world to feel at least a little bit safer, even for a few seconds. And now it was clear that her earlier assumptions had been wrong. He did still want her. He was trying to protect her in some twisted way, wasn't he?

But then she remembered Racetrack's drunkenly slurred words and the way David looked like someone had punched him in the gut.

"Racetrack's drunk off his rockah right now, 'cause he's so upset about you double crossin' us! No. No, I won't give up where you did. I won't let your failures become mine." And with that, she left him standing there. She just turned and booked it out of that alleyway and into the crowded street. She got jostled around a little bit at first, but finally found a clear path and didn't stop until she reached the Lodge again.

The sound of her brother calling after her faded after the first five minutes. He had tried to follow her at first, but she had the head start and the advantage of having a smaller, more lithe body.

Not long after she returned, Al followed David back to his house and the two talked to Sarah, who promptly broke down in tears over Jack's betrayal. David tried to console her, but she would have none of it. Al didn't say anything about the confrontation she'd had earlier with Jack to either of them and she made no move to comfort her grieving friend. She just sat, stony-faced, gazing into nothingness, wondering if she would be taken out in the crumbling ruins of her life.

The rest of the night was that kind of blur for her. She refused dinner, but accepted Mrs. Jacobs' suggestion that she bathe before bed. Al realized she didn't remember the last time she had eaten, but what did that matter anyway? Sarah lent her a nightgown and they climbed into the same bed a few hours after dark.

Al was lulled to sleep by the sound of Sarah crying into her pillow.


	31. Survivors

_**Author's Note: I'm so sorry this chapter took so long! The move went well and I'm now living with my best friend, hanging out with her and her fiancee daily, and had my first day of work today at a daycare. So as you can tell life's been busy. But to add to all that- they don't have internet at the house yet! O.o And they don't know when they'll get it. Therefore, I had to make a trip to Starbucks today to upload this. :P I'll try to update more regularly again, but it may be more stretched out than before. Don't worry, though. Only 8 chapters to go! **_

**Chapter 31- Survivors**

_They might be bigger  
><em>_But we're faster and never scared  
><em>_You can walk away, say, "We don't need this"  
><em>_But there's something in your eye, says, "We can beat this"  
><em>_~Change:Taylor Swift~_

Al slipped out of the Jacobs' house before the others woke up again. Her limbs felt heavy as she climbed out the window and dropped quietly onto the fire escape. She had left the borrowed nightgown folded on Sarah's vanity seat with a thank you note to everyone and instructions for David and Les to meet her at the Greeley statue. She added a postscript that told David that the boys would need them to give a good speech today, so he had better be prepared.

Trudging past the empty streets toward Greeley Square, Al felt like her head was foggier than usual. She pushed the heel of her hand against her forehead. Maybe she should have tried to go back to sleep but she didn't want to have another nightmare, so it was probably better that she stayed awake. She hadn't stopped having nightmares since Jack left, but none were as intense as the night he was arrested. At least, they weren't intense enough to make her scream in her sleep.

When she reached the statue, she was the first to arrive. The boys who usually slept on it had stopped since the strike. It was too dangerous for them to be so near the Distribution Center in small numbers as of late.

In fact, Al knew she was pushing it, coming here by herself in the early morning, but she could honestly care less. Besides, David would likely be waking up within the next half hour and he would hurry over when he knew she was gone. She knew she worried him when she wandered off like this, but Al couldn't help it. She needed space.

No, she needed her brother back and her world to stop shaking itself up like a freaking snowglobe.

Al pulled herself onto the statue's base, leaning her back against Greeley's left leg, her own legs dangling lazily off the edge. She watched as the carriage came around the corner, four bulls guarding it. The two on her side glared menacingly at her and she rolled her eyes. Like she was going to try to stop them all by her lonesome. She wasn't stupid.

The gates swung open and closed the second they were all inside, but one boy stood at it, ready to swing it open the moment he saw one of the traitor newsies booking it down the street in his direction.

Maybe if she were less recognizable, she would try to inflitrate their ranks and sabatoge them before they could catch her. The idea was laughable, though. She refused to set the wagon on fire and any other tactics wouldn't be effective enough to merit the risk.

She couldn't help but smirk when the traitors came running around the corner. Every one of them slowed when they saw her perched there then sped up the second recognition registered on their cowardly faces. They all turned to give her a fearful glance before heading deeper into the courtyard.

"Couldn't sleep, Melissa?" Shifty's voice originated behind her and to her left, not very far from her at all. She didn't jump, but her body stiffened as she waited for him to step into view. When he finally did, she gave him an uninterested glance before looking back toward the gates. She made sure she could still see him in her peripheral vision though, in case he tried to pull something.

"What? Ya lookin' for ya bruddah?" he asked, faking sympathy. "I'm sure he'll be comin' out soon enough."

"Whattaya want, Shifty?" Al asked with an irritated sigh. He was the last person she wanted to be talking to right now.

"Oh, she acknowledges me presence!" He threw a hand over his heart and gave an exaggerated bow.

"Big words for someone so stupid," she commented.

"Why I oughta-"

"Hey Shifty, whatcha got there?" The Delancey brothers were coming around the left side of the Distribution Center: cocky strides, cocky smiles, and everything. Al's eyes narrowed as they approach and Shifty's anger turned into a pleased sneer.

"I found me a defenseless little goil who thinks she's a newsie," he responded.

"You're hangin' with the Delanceys now. Why am I not surprised?" She kept a close eye on them now, her attention focused. These were not good odds. She wondered if the bulls would let them beat her in the middle of the Square or if they would put a stop to it, if only because it was in a public place. Of course, between the three of them, they could probably get her into the nearest alley with a bit of effort.

She jumped down and stepped to the left so that they were all three in front of her and she wasn't trapped with her back to the statue. She forced herself to relax enough so that her right shoulder leaned against the base, but stood upright enough so that she could fight or make a run for it without too much maneuvering.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "There a reason you're blockin' my view?"

Al really hated the height difference between she and the boys right now.

Oscar opened his mouth to respond, but it wasn't his voice she heard next.

"You boys have a problem with our leadah?" Racetrack was beside her in an instant and now both Shifty and Morris were looking uneasily behind her. She didn't have to turn around to know the other Lodge boys were here too. She could hear them perfectly well.

"Cap's your leadah now?" Oscar crowed in disbelief. He laughed and gave her a condescending once-over. "Yous really are pansies if you're lettin' a goil call the shots!"

"Hmm, I'll bet you have one hell of a bruise on your ribs there from the rally. How'd ya get it again?" Al faked curiosity, cocking her head to the side and blinking. He knew she was talking about the baton she'd bashed him with and he glowered in response.

"Oscar, Morris! Get your lousy rears in here before I lock ya out!" Weasel called from the gates. The three boys before her scowled and walked away. Al watched them go and caught sight of Jack as he stepped out from the door next to Weasel's office. He didn't see her, but she watched him give the Delancey brothers a scowl before turning away.

"Someone's back on their feet," Al said, raising both eyebrows as she appraised Racetrack. She saw his face visibly pale as his show of strength faded. His chest fell and he rubbed at his head irritably.

"Yeah, yeah. Quit that yellin'."

"Hangover?"

"Obviously." He rolled his eyes, then flinched at that. "Where's the walkin' mouth?"

"Should be here any minute. You look horrible," she laughed. "This is gonna be one bad mornin' for ya."

He glared and gave an I-am-not-amused smile.

It wasn't long before David reached the Square, Les trailing dutifully behind him, sword ever-ready. The two strike leaders talked for a few minutes before helping each other climb onto the base of the Greeley statue.

"Alright, newsies! Times is hard!" She projected her voice and tried not to snicker as Racetrack grimaced. "Things're tougher than they've evah been, but we're tough enough to handle it. We're 'Hattaners and, more'n that, we're newsies! We're survivahs! Most of us have been dealt a low blow in life! We been beat an' kicked an' knocked around! We been in more fist fights than we can count!"

She looked at David with a half-smile and he nodded before continuing where she left off, as planned.

"So now Pulitzer thinks he can do the same thing! He thinks that we're just a bunch of angry kids, a buch of pesky street rats who just want to let off some steam! But we're more than just a fly in his ear! We're not gonna back down just because he tells us to! We proved that with the thugs! We proved that at the rally! And we'll prove that now! Because we're scarin' him! We're gettin' under his skin! We're fighting back and he can't stand that!"

Al picked up again when David nodded in her direction, allowing the cocky Cheshire grin she'd gotten from her brother to spread across her face.

"I don't know about you, but I ain't a coward an' I ain't no rotten scabbah who can't take a hit! I'm a 'Hattan newsie an' I ain't backin' down! Are you with me?"

The roar of approval made Al's grin grow and she beamed in David's direction. He grinned back and the two of them cheered with the newsies with enough gusto to keep them excited. Al looked toward the gates and locked eyes with her brother. He was watching her with a worried frown but she didn't know why. She tore her eyes away before her perplexity showed on her face.

The newsies quieted just as the circulation bell rang.

"Anybody hear that?" David yelled, smile still plastered on his partially freckled face.

"No!"

"Then let's get to it, boys!" Al finished. They all closed ranks as Al and David jumped down. He wrapped her in a quick, excited hug and Al hugged him back, her stomach fluttering a little at the contact. For a few moments, everything was alright in the world. Even Racketrack's complaint about the volume of the rabble didn't take away from those few moments that the feeling of victory danced within them.

The band of newsies chanted together loudly, even as the carriage broke through their blockade and the traitorous newsies left, escorted by the bulls. Al had to look away when Jack went through. She couldn't watch as boys who had once idolized her brother now spat at him and called out insults. It was all she could do to keep from running forward and defending him.

It was long after lunch that all the newsies finally broke up and scattered, their picketing done for the day.

Les was dragging his feet and complaining about being hungry as they walked away from the Square.

"My stomach is eating itself!" he cried dismally. "I'm so hungry."

"You're not that hungry, Les," David chided.

"It's almost dinnertime and I haven't had lunch! Of course I'm that hungry!" The nine year-old argued.

"Look, there's a man selling hotdogs. Go buy us three and we'll be right there." He handed Les the coins and the kid was running forward before Al could bat an eyelash.

"Three? Ya think the kid can eat that much?" she laughed, hands deep in her pockets.

"One's for you," he responded, rolling his eyes.

"Uh-uh, Davy," she said, looking at him seriously. "You are not spendin' any money on me. Les! Get back here!"

David grabbed her wrist before she could move toward his brother. "It's not a big deal. It's only a few pennies."

"Yeah, a few pennies that should be goin' toward feedin' ya family." Al's brow furrowed in irritation. "I don't need ya buyin' my lunch, ya hear?"

"When's the last time you ate?" David gave her a pointed look.

"What's that mattah?"

"When?"

Al floundered. "I don't know," she tried to brush it off.

"You haven't eaten since right after Jack's sentencing, Al." He spoke to her like he was scolding a small child and Al fidgeted. Les came up at that moment. David grabbed the top hot dog and placed it authoritatively in her hand. "Eat."

The three sat down on the closest stoop that had enough shade for all three of them. Al settled down and pouted visibly, only scowling more when David laughed at her for it.

"How old are you?" he chuckled, shaking his head.

"Very funny," she retorted and bit into her hot dog. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until that moment. She scarfed down the entire thing in less than five minutes. Les was incredibly impressed, convinced that next time they should have an eating race. David glanced over at her smugly but she ignored it.

It took forever to get David to go home that day. He was upset that she wouldn't be staying at his house tonight, but she was adamant that she had mooched off of his family long enough. She had roughed it on the streets before and she would do it again. In the end, she ended up having to take off running. She knew plenty more shortcuts and hideouts than he could ever hope to learn, not to mention the fact that he couldn't just leave Les behind to chase her down.

She rolled her eyes as she took a roundabout route back to the Lodge. She still couldn't sleep there, of course, but she knew it was safer and smarter for her to stay within the general vicinity so she could get to help if she needed it. She wasn't far from it when she ran into Jack. The moment she caught sight of him, her stomach dropped and she tried to sidestep him. Her brother gave her a _Really? You really think I'm just gonna let you walk away?_ look and took her by the hand. He led her into a nearby alleyway and she didn't resist. She did, however, fix him with a firm glare as she leaned with her back against one of the dirty brick walls.

She waited for him to speak.

"Alone again?"

She gave him a dark look, but didn't respond. Jack took off his cap and ran a hand through his hair before settling it back on his head. He looked agitated, worried. Al crossed her arms over her chest as she narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out what was going on in that head of his.

"It ain't a good idea for you to be showin' your face this close to the Lodge," she told him seriously after a moment.

"Oh, so ya do care about me."

"Don't even pull that, Jack. You're the one who left me. It wasn't the othah way around."

Jack sucked in a breath and looked away, then turned back. "The strike has gotta stop. It ain't-"

"_This_ is what you wanted to talk about? Now Pulitzer's got you goin' from newsie to newsie?" Al asked angrily.

"Would ya let me explain?" he thundered, silencing his sister for the moment. He continued in a more subdued tone. "It ain't safe for ya. Pulitzer's gonna target you'n David next. You're gonna get hoit." His eyes were pleading with her.

"An' how'll it be any bettah for us if we just drop it? We started this an' we're gonna finish it through. You can't possibly expect us to sell out like you," she spat. "What about the boys? What about all those kids who'll starve?"

"You're more important to me right now! You're the one whose safety I'm worried 'bout!" he yelled pacing to the side and back again while wringing his hands.

"What about the Jacobs? What about Sarah, David, an' Les?"

Jack didn't have an answer for her. He just gave her this helpless look as if he were trapped and couldn't find a way out. Al turned her eyes away. She couldn't stand that look. She wanted to help her brother but he had trapped himself.

"If you were so worried about me, you wouldn't have left me to fend for myself. I don't even know who you are anymore." She turned on her heel and walked away just like she had done yesterday. He didn't follow her this time and that hurt almost as much as seeing him in the first place.

When it got dark, Al went to the Lodge to retrieve the blanket Kloppman let her borrow each night and pay for the night's stay of one or two boys who needed it. She didn't realize she had been followed until she was sitting on the cold alley ground and unfolding her blanket.

Without a word, Mush and Kid Blink laid down on either side of her, their own blankets in hand and three pillows, one of which they lent to her. They lay close together, warding off the cold night with their body heat. Al felt tears spring to her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered quietly to them. Neither responded but she knew they heard. She smiled as she pulled her blanket up to her neck and curled her toes inside her boots. Even when her whole life appeared to be crumbling around her, she felt safe, loved, and protected.

Maybe David was right. Maybe she wouldn't end up alone after all.


	32. Bad Move

_**Author's Note: I'm back at Starbucks again, sipping away at my Breve (sp?) Carmel Macchiato with extra carmel (Try it! It's amazing!). I just realized that I never thanked my reviewers from the last chapter! So I'll compact y'all into one! :P So many thanks to Rachel, Narniafan96, Austra, mysterygirl, Ealasaid Una, Jovie Black, LucyofNarnia, People Person I'm Not, LC, and .Uchiha. Y'all are the reason my friends gave me weird looks when I kept muttering "Ah, my reviewers are gonna kill me," all last week. :P Y'all are amazing!  
>In case you haven't picked up on it yet, I really love writing fight scenes. Therefore, it only makes sense that this was the chapter I had been looking forward to writing from the start. :P Let me know if y'all like it! :)<strong>_

**Chapter 32- Bad Move**

_Black, black, black and blue  
><em>_Beat me 'til I'm numb  
><em>_Tell the devil I say "Hey" when you get back to where you're from  
><em>_~Grenade:Bruno Mars~_

Al woke up in a tangle of limbs that would make her laugh when she thought about it later. Right now, though, in the gray morning light she was only confused. She lay on her stomach, her arms holding her pillow with someone snoring loudly in her right ear.

She cracked one eye open and tilted her head in the direction of the obnoxious sound she recognized from years of sleeping one bunk below and to the side of it's owner. Sure enough, Kid Blink's mouth was wide open and right next to her face. She tried not to gag as a fresh whiff of morning breath greeted her waking.

She felt something draped across her back and something else over her left leg. Al shifted just enough to see what it was. To her amusement, the back of Kid Blink's arm was draped over the middle of her back, the back of his hand laying atop the side of Mush's face, who lay on his side facing her. One of Mush's legs lay atop hers and he clutched the top of his blanket between his clenched fingers.

The fifteen year-old girl let out a soft chuckle as she pushed herself off the ground, knocking the haphazardly placed limbs off of her in the process. Mush, a notoriously light sleeper like Al, woke from the stirring and stretched without getting up.

"Morning, Al," he greeted her, his stretching eerily similar to that of a cat.

"Mornin'," she yawned.

Another loud snore emanated from Blink's mouth and Mush pushed at the other boy's face groggily, knocking it further away from him. His best friend continued snoring, blissfully unaware of his waking counterparts.

"What time do you think it is?" Al asked.

"About time to start gettin' ready for the day," Mush answered, finally pushing himself off the ground.

Al stood and folded her blanket, putting it under her arm before she nudged Blink with her foot. He didn't budge. It was rare that she found the opportunity to wake one of the Lodge boys, Al realized. Normally they were the ones creating obnoxious ways to wake her up.

_Payback time._

Throwing a mischievious grin at Mush, Al got down on her knees on the other side of Blink and edged right up to his face. She took a deep breath, trying not to giggle before she acted.

"SPIDER!" she shrieked.

Kid Blink's eye flew open and bolted upright. Al had intended to get out of the way the second she yelled, but failed, and the two bashed foreheads. They both fell backward, groaning. Mush was on his back now, rolling as he held his stomach and belly laughed.

"You. . . should have seen. . . yourselves!" he chortled, barely able to breathe. He was in tears as Kid Blink glared at the girl who had so rudely woken him.

"Good morning, sunshine!" she smirked even as she rubbed her aching forehead with the palm of her hand.

"That has to've been the greatest moment of my entire life!" Mush exclaimed, wiping away the tears that had emerged from his laughing fit.

At first, Kid Blink pressed his lips together in peevish annoyance, but it slowly spread into one of his own trademark grins. "Good one, Al."

The group made their way to the Lodge, where Al got the chance to wash herself as quickly as possible and had to leave with her hair wet. She knew it would be uncomforable all wet and stuffed under her cap, but the leader couldn't be late so she would have to deal with the discomfort.

Their picketing in front of the Distribution Center that morning went on much like yesterday, minus the inspirational speech from the two strike leaders. David seemed relieved to see her alive and well, looking no worse for the wear after sleeping in an alley the night before. She told him about the fact that Mush and Kid Blink had stayed with her and then how she had woken the latter boy. David smiled as Kid Blink rubbed his forehead at the memory a half-hearted scowl on his face.

After the newsies dispersed, Al decided to accompany the Jacobs children to the market. Sarah needed to pick up a few things and David decided to come when Al and Les volunteered to join her.

"I missed you last night," Sarah said as they left the launderer. She had just picked up a lace tablecloth that her mother had sent to be cleaned a few days before. It now lay in her shopping basket that she had brought from home.

"That's sweet of ya," Al responded with a small smile, pulling the cigarette she was currently smoking away from her lips for a moment. "Thanks for sharin' ya bed an' all. You didn't have to do that."

"But I wanted to. Besides it was almost like having a sister." Sarah flashed her a grin. "We'll have to do it again sometime, when circumstances aren't so. . . dismal."

Al nodded, but didn't respond aloud.

"You an' Davy seem to be doin' a little better today. Not as sad."

"Yeah, well, today went a little bettah than the past few days." Al glanced back and saw that David had stopped by a vendor that had a lovely typewriter on display. Les was trailing a few feet behind the two girls, who were still walking, pretending to swordfight as usual. "How have you been?" She turned to the older girl, realizing she hadn't paid much attention to how she felt in the last few days. Al had only been worried about her own issues and her own self. She began to regret her selfishness as a pained expression crossed the older girl's face.

"It's been. . . rough," Sarah answered honestly, shifting the basket so she could get a better hold on it.

"Yeah?"

"I mean, I thought Jack liked me, you know, romantically; and I liked him too, but-" She paused as someone bumped into her and she told him it was okay. "I guess I was just expecting-"

A body ran right into Sarah, crushing her basket between it and her.

"Hey, watch it. . ." Al started to say, but when she realized who the body belonged to the words died in her mouth. A sense of foreboding settled into the pit of her stomach. She felt something brush up behind her and didn't have to glance backward to know it was Oscar.

"Where ya goin', toots?" Morris was making eyes at Sarah and the older girl looked nervous. An iron-like grasp clamped onto the bicep of Al's right arm and squeezed, making her cry out involuntarily as Oscar laughed. "Where's little Davy?"

The basket was knocked out of Sarah's hands as Al realized Shifty was the one holding her arm.

Al growled dangerously in the back of her throat. "Bad move, boys." She took the cigarette out of her mouth and placed the smoldering end on the back of Shifty's hand. He yelped and grabbed at her with the other hand. She tried to move out of the way, but only backed up into Oscar. He clenched his hand down harder this time and Al hissed in pain.

Sarah was struggling against Morris, who had her arms pinned to her side, his arms wrapped around them.

Oscar kicked Al's feet out from under her and the two pulled her toward the alleyway behind Sarah before she could find footing.

"Leave them alone!" Les yelled. He ran forward and shoved the closest bully to him: Oscar. The Delancey boy let go of her arm and shoved Les to the ground.

"No! Leave him alone!" Sarah screamed.

"Don't you touch 'im!" Al added, hurriedly working to find her footing. She found it just as Les was shoved into a pile of tin milk jugs.

Al swung at Shifty, her punch connecting with his jaw and didn't even pause to deliver a second to his gut.

"You stupid ape!" she heard Sarah bite out. Shifty knocked off Al's cap and fisted a hand in her hair. He used it to force her into the alleyway just as Sarah punched Morris right in his left eye, just the way Al had shown her. Clearly she hadn't expected the pain to her knuckles that would result and she paused to nurse them. Morris took that opportunity to shove her further in, therefore making way for Al, Shifty, and Oscar.

Al couldn't see what was happening at that point because Shifty shoved her forward and she hit the ground with more force than she had expected. She rolled onto her back and immediately jumped up only to receive a hit to the jaw that sent her staggering backward.

"Run, Davy!" she heard Sarah yell.

"Oh yeah, 'Run, Davy!'" Oscar mocked, though Al couldn't see him from where she stood. Al ducked under the next swing and ran past him to slap her hands on both of Morris's ears the way Jack had taught her to. It worked like a charm. He howled and let go of Sarah, stumbling backward just as David came barreling in. He was just about to tackle Oscar when Al was yanked off her feet. Her scalp felt like it had been set on fire from the force Shifty had used to pull her back.

Al's back hit the ground just before the back of her head did and the air rushed out of her in one quick motion. She lay dazed for a moment before she received a jarring kick to the stomach that made it near impossible to regain the breath she'd lost.

"God, stop it! You're hurting them!" Sarah was on her feet, trying to yank Morris away from Al. Apparently, he'd been the one whose boot had sunk into her tender stomach.

"Sarah, run!" David cried from somewhere near Al's feet. "Go find help! Find a newsie!"

"Now, Sarah!" Al yelled with what little breath she had regained. "Get Les and get outta here!"

Sarah took off like a shot, grabbing Les as she went and the two were gone in an instant. Their attackers seemed to be more intent on beating Al and David than stopping the other two.

Al cried out as an unexpected kick connected with the back of her shoulder. That one was Shifty because she could see Morris in front of her fitting his brass knuckles onto his fingers.

David and Oscar were somewhere near her feet, rolling over each other and throwing punches in their attempts to gain the upper hand.

Shifty moved to where he was standing above her and yanked her up by the collar of her button-down shirt. She tried to throw a punch, still feeling weak from having her breath knocked out of her, but he grabbed her fist, twisted her arm around her back, and slammed her into the wall beside Morris. She cried out involuntarily as her head head the stone and he twisted her arm back farther than it was meant to go.

"Get off of her!" David howled and she watched with slightly blurred vision as he escaped Oscar's grasp and slammed into Shifty, releasing her from his grasp. "Don't you touch her!" Morris reached out to quickly grab her, but she planted her foot on his hip and kicked him so that he stumbled away. She turned around in time to find Oscar sneering as he came at her.

She dodged the first hit, but the second caught her in the ribs, right on the side where the thug's club had cracked her ribs. She didn't just cry out this time. She screamed as she buckled over. Oscar laughed and got a good hold on her so that her arms were stuck awkwardly behind her and his looped under her upper arms and interlaced his fingers behind her neck to hold her head head still.

She could see and feel blood dripping from above her left eye and found herself hoping that it was only an abrasion. She didn't know how to give herself stitches.

She glanced worriedly over at David and saw Shifty struggling to get him in the same grasp she was currently in. Al kicked at Oscar's shins the best way she could from this angle. He grunted in irritation but her actions did nothing to get her free.

"Would ya hurry up, Morris?" he called.

Morris was looming ever closer, his brass knuckles gleaming as he eyed her.

Size and strength. Al found herself pondering these two elements of a fighter as he approached her. Neither determined a match or who won. She, Spot, and hundreds of other newsies in the bustling city of New York had proven this time and time again by their bloody knuckles and confident smirks. Size and strength could be overcome and defeated. Size and strength did not determine the victor.

Oh, but Al wished she had more of both right now. She may be a good fighter, but she was still smaller than most newsies her age, and she was shorter than the Delancey brothers by half a head, at the very least. No, size and strength didn't dictate the outcome of a fight, but they sure helped. So did numbers.

The first punch hurt more than she had expected it to. Despite the number of fights Al had partaken in, she had never been hit with brass knuckles before now. Tears poured unwillingly from her eyes and she had to clamp down on her lip to keep herself from crying out again. She didn't want to give them that satisfaction.

The second hit caught her in the same spot, making her want to scream again, but the third made contact with the bottom left side of her jaw. The motion threw her head backward at an angle that hurt her neck, but it was nothing compared to the fire on her jawline.

"Aw, look at ya lovah boy, Ali," Morris sneered. Oscar twisted her head to where she could see David. His face was red with both fury and exertion as he struggled against Shifty, spewing threats with a venom she had never seen in him. She had been too occupied with her pain before to hear him but now his voice filtered into her ears.

"You lay another finger on her and I'll kill you, Morris! Leave her alone! Get your dirty hands offa her!" He stopped for a split second, realizing that Al was looking at him and directed his attention toward her. "Al! Al, are you alright? How bad are you hurt?"

She couldn't answer him, her jaw hurt to much for her to even imagine moving it in response. Or at least, that's what she thought. It was when Morris went right for the tender spot between and below David's ribs that she realized differently. Her friend grunted and doubled over and Al suddenly heard herself screaming.

"Leave 'im alone you sick bastard! Stop it! Stop! God, I will tear your eyes out, Morris! I'll scratch that ugly sneer right off your face! No!" Every syllable made her face feel like she had moved to close to a fire and it was melting right off but she couldn't just stand there. It wasn't in her nature.

When David received his fouth punch via brass knuckles, whatever cry came out of David's mouth was drowned out by the volume of her scream. The sound was a mixture of horror, terror, and outrage and she bolstered all of her strength to kick out at Morris. Her feet barely reached him, but she succeeded at least in part. Her feet hit his knee with just enough force to make him stumble and whirl in her direction.

In the next second, salvation arrived in the form of Jack Kelly, her very own brother. He entered the alleyway with his fists swinging, his face a mask of barely contained rage. Oscar threw Al into the the stack of crates behind them to free his hands. The splinters she received in her hands and forearms as she tried to maneuver her way out were almost welcome after the cold pain of Morris's brass knuckles.

Meanwhile, she could hear Jack yelling from behind her, each word seemingly punctuated by the sound of his fists hitting flesh. "Don't. You. Evah. Touch. My sistah. David. Sarah. Or Les. EVAH. AGAIN. Or I'll fix it so _you_ can't walk!"

Al clumsily stood to her feet and felt someone clumsily reach out to steady her. She flinched out of instinct as David's hand grabbed her arm but relaxed when pain didn't follow the physical contact. She looked over at him, both of her arms wrapped around her middle as if her innards would escape the moment she moved them. David had one arm around his own ribcage and the other still steadied her. His face was bruised and bloody, but he looked at her with a level of concern that made her fear for her life for a second. Like maybe she was dying and didn't know it, but he did.

"Are you okay?" he asked, wheezing as he spoke. A coughing fit that brought tears to her eyes seized him and she threw and arm out to grab his, in case he fell over from the force of it.

It was a stupid question. They'd just been jumped in an alleyway by three guys, one wielding brass knuckles, but she answered it regardless. She wanted to put her friend at ease.

"M'fine." Her voice sounded raspy and old.

Suddenly, Jack was moving toward her and he had tears in his eyes. The three boys who had jumped she and David were laying unconscious on the cobblestone ground. Her brother took her face gently in his hands and she watched him choke back a sob when she whimpered in reaction to his touch. Her jaw still felt like it was being held to a flame. Jack peppered her forehead and the bridge of her nose with kisses and choked apologies.

He finally made himself step back and he put a hand on David's face, his brow dipped as he took in his injuries. "I'm so, so sorry."

Sarah and Les came hurrying into the alleyway, the former in tears as she took in her brother and new friend. Al tried to crack a smile to put the girl at ease, but it came out as more of a grimace and seemed to only upset Sarah more. The older girl lingered a foot or so behind Jack, holding Les close to her as she watched them with a worried expression, afraid to touch them or even get too close lest she make their pain greater.

"What? You couldn't stay away, could ya?" David finally asked, sparing a look at Jack. Al couldn't tell whether he was still angry with her brother or not.

"Well, I guess I can't be somethin' I ain't."

"A scab?"

Jack chuckled darkly. "No, smart."


	33. The Dark Truth

_**Author's Note: Watched Newsies with my best friend, her fiancee, and two of their friends the other night. They really enjoyed it and I was super happy. Lol. So y'all can be glad that more fans are added to our ranks, even if they aren't super-fans. Haha. So many thanks to the reviewers of my last chapter. I had to wipe the silly grin off my face when I was reading them so people wouldn't give me weird looks. Not that they don't already give me weird looks. . . Anyway, thanks to Austra, JoJo Lupin, Narniafan96, BritishIsBetter639, mysterygirl, Ealasaid Una, LC, and Rachel . Y'all are rock awesome!**_

**Chapter 33- The Dark Truth**

"The idiot told me he was gonna fix Davy so 'e couldn't walk," Jack was saying.

The four teenagers and single child were sitting on the bottom platform of a fire escape a few blocks away from the place where they had been ambushed, resting mostly for the benefit of David and Al who were still smarting from their earlier encounter with the three scabs.

Sarah had explained that, upon leaving the alleyway, she and Les had run helter-skelter down the road desperately trying to find someone who would help them. She had searched frantically for a newsie cap or even a policeman who would intervene. She ended up running headlong into Jack who had been running in their direction. The hit landed both on their rears and they sat in a somewhat stunned silence for a moment, both confused and dazed at having run straight into the other.

"Jack! Jack! You've gotta come! They need help! They're hurting them!" Sarah had finally sputtered, eyes flicking wildly about.

Jack had jumped up immediately and pulled her up in the same motion, shaking her gently by the shoulders. "Where are they?" She had told him immediately and he had dashed straight there.

"I lunged at 'im and Morris told him to shut it (I guess that one's got at least a lil' brains somewhere)," Al's brother continued. "But Weasel was all, 'Try it an' it's back to the Refuge.'" He rolled his eyes dramatically, distaste coloring his words. "I came lookin' for ya, though, soon as I left the Distribution Center. Shoulda known they'd go aftah ya both."

"And good thing ya did," Sarah responded, her eyes locked on the older of her younger brothers. She had hardly looked away since the fight, as if she thought he might keel over if she didn't keep careful watch.

"So what's our next move?" Al asked from where she was leaning against her own brother's right arm. She tilted her neck up toward him, both her arms still wrapped around her middle. "An' how bad is my face swellin'?"

"Pretty bad," Les grimaced, earning himself a glare from Sarah, who would have preferred he be more tactful with the news.

"You really need some ice on that," Jack said, raising his eyebrows in concern. Al knew he was right, but only shrugged. She didn't feel like moving, even if ice would make her face feel better. "I'm not sure what next. Snyder'll be comin' aftah me the moment he hears from the boys that I pounded on 'em. An' now he's got backin' from Pulitzer."

"So he's trying to take the leaders out one by one then?" David asked. He was still regarding Jack coldly, but seemed more wary than angry now.

"Looks like it," Jack agreed, he ran a hand through his hair. "What about Denton? We could ask him what to do." He grinned, proud of his suggestion and having been the one to voice it.

"We can't," Al answered with a sigh.

"Why not?"

"He ditched us when you got locked up," David answered bitterly.

"He was reassigned," Sarah amended, her lips pressed together until they were two thin lines. "It wasn't his fault."

Al looked away, irritated by Sarah's defense of the man, and shifted against her brother. Denton still could have helped them. He should have done _something_. They had trusted him. He was a clever guy, he could have found a way to help them out if he really wanted to.

It was then that she remembered the article he had asked she and David to read. Al had picked up the crumpled sheet, intending to read it at a later point, and had only managed to forget all about it.

She shifted and pulled it out of the pocket of her vest, slowly unfolding it in her hands.

"Whatcha got there?" Jack asked curiously. Al looked up at David instead of her brother, gauging his reaction as she answered truthfully, "Denton's article."

David raised an eyebrow at her, surprised; but he didn't appear to be angry,so she continued, "He gave it to us when 'e was reassigned. Told us he wrote it 'bout the rally an' wanted someone to read it."

She opened it, then asked if someone else would read it out loud, because her jaw hurt far too much for her to talk anymore. Of course, she didn't say that bit, not caring to worry her brother or the others, so she said she just didn't feel like it.

Sarah volunteered and the sheet was passed her way.

_The Dark Truth: Why Our City Really Fears the Newsies Strike_ was the title.

_Last night, I saw naked force exercised against mere boys- newsies._

_The setting was the rally the newsboys have been advertising for nigh on a week in order to draw the public eye toward their dilemma and Mr. Pulitzer's blatant disregard for their demands. The strike leaders, Jack Kelly, Alison Kelly, and David Jacobs took the stage along with another newsie whose reputation among the newsboys makes him influential in their circles. They rallied the boys, presenting a rousing speech to encourage them, then brought a new issue to light._

_Mr. Jacobs was calling for an end to the violence that has marked their campaign thus far._

_However, it wasn't long after he and his counterparts had convinced the crowd that this was in their best interest that the police arrived. Armed with batons and joined by other men that strongly resembled those from the Distribution Center ambush, they raided the theatre, swinging and throwing punches at boys half their size. These men didn't even give the boys a chance to surrender. Children, their ages varying from as young as six to eighteen, were bloodied and bruised, forced to fight for their lives. Many of them were unconscious by the time they reached police custody._

_It wasn't just boys who were caught in the fighting either. Sarah Jacobs was rushed out of the theatre by her brother before the fighting commenced, but Alison Kelly was caught in the crossfire. Miss Kelly was thrown down a flight of stairs, unconscious before she reached the bottom. Medda Larkson, owner of the theatre house was screaming for the men to leave the boys alone when her employees pulled her from of the room._

_Miss Larkson gave the Sun this quote, "The police tore my theatre apart and these boys did nothing wrong. They are the sweetest bunch I have ever known and even defended me in the midst of the police raid. And what did that get them? That was the most horrific scene I've ever witnessed." _

_Why is it that the police chose to raid a peaceful rally of young boys? Why are the police allowing these kids to get beaten and even joining in on the "soaking" (as the newsies refer to it) of New York City children?_

_The New York Sun is the only newspaper who has even printed about the strike. Why is our city so scared of the Newsies Strike?_

_Our city stands on the shoulders of it's children. Their labor runs New York City. From the sweatshops to the factories, from the newsboys to the boot-blacks; they run our town and we treat them like a commodity we can use and abuse at will._

The article went on and by the end the four teenagers were shell-shocked by its intensity. It was a great article, even better than the one that had covered their victory over the thugs at the Distribution Center. They sat in silence, pondering the words they had just heard, each of their minds whirring like the wheels of a runaway carriage. Denton had claimed that the city was scared of the newsies because the three leaders had such a charisma, such a way with words and passion for justice, that they could incite real change. They could rally all the children of New York who were being mistreated and make a stand greater than anything they had done thus far.

Even Les seemed mesmerized by the words he had just heard, but he was the first to break the silence."I like Denton again," he announced firmly.

"That's it," Jack answered next, attempting to sit up and stand. "We needa talk to him."

"No," Al announced. All eyes turned on her, each pair confused. "I mean, yeah, we should talk to 'im, but we got somethin' else to take care of foist." She turned to Jack, her lips pressed together. "I know I wouldn't listen to ya before, but I think we all need to know why ya toined on us for those few days. We needa understand."

Jack ran a hand through his hair again, nodding. His adam's apple bobbed up and down and he puckered his lips before finally starting his answer.

"That night, when you'n Davy came to break me out, I was talkin' to Pulitzer. The guy's crazy, but aftah tryin' and failin' to bribe me, he asked about David." His eyes turned on the wounded teen and looked at him apologetically. "He was all, 'What about that partner of yours, David. What'll happen to him if he's in jail? What d'you think the Refuge'll do to him? What'll happen to his family?'" He swung his head back to his sister. "Then he said, 'An' your sistah, this Melissa, she's helpin' you too. You don't think Snyder would do anything to put her in the Refuge too? You think we can't put 'er in on the same charges as you?'"

"He threatened you. He used us to threaten you." David said slowly, realization dawning on his face. The same look was registering on the girls' faces as well.

"Yeah," Jack rubbed the back of his neck. "'e said he'd drop all the charges, fill my pockets with money, an' let us off the hook for everything if I woiked for 'im again. He'd leave all of us alone as long as the strike ended. If not, he was gonna take us down 'imself."

Al leaned up and kissed her brother on the cheek. "I'm sorry."

He gave a small, almost sad smile and said nothing. They all sat in another stunned silence as they manufactured this information. All of them were in danger now, even Sarah and Les, though a tad more indirectly.

It was David who stood first, his movements more careful and calculated, but far less pain-filled than before. He held a hand out to Al, whom he was on the other side of from Jack. "Let's go talk to Denton."

After Sarah went in to see the receptionist at the Sun for Denton's address, they found his apartment. It had been roughly two and a half hours since the Delanceys and Shifty had ambushed them, so they made sure to take back streets to get there.

Jack knocked and Denton answered the door seconds later.

"My God-" was his initial reaction upon laying eyes on David and Al.

"Did you mean what ya wrote here? 'Bout all these sweatshop kids listenin' to us?" Jack asked, holding the article out in his hand that he had taken from Al on the walk over.

Denton waved them in, ignoring Jack's question and hurrying over to get some ice from the cooler. He wrapped it in a thin towel and handed it to Al.

"What happened to the two of you?" he asked, wide-eyed.

"Pulitzer tried to take Al and I out of the strike," David answered as another block of ice was handed to him.

"The Delancey brothers and Shifty dragged us into an alley and beat on us," Al summarized bluntly, tenderly holding the ice on her oversized jaw as she was ushered to a seat. David held his ice against his quickly blackening right eye.

"Well?" Jack finally asked. "Did ya mean it?"

"I don't write anything I don't mean," Denton responded with a soft smile. "The city thrives on child labor. A lot of people make money that way. They're terrified that the Newsies Strike will spread."

"Well there's really not much chance of that as long as they got the power." Jack looked almost deflated as he stood behind David's chair. After explaining his reasoning for defecting earlier, the reality of the threat he now carried on his shoulders seemed to weigh him down. Sarah seemed to catch this too, because she slid her hand into Jack's. Al tried not to grin at her brother's surprised yet pleased expression.

"Sometimes all it takes is a voice," the older man answered seriously. "One voice becomes a hundred and then a thousand- unless it's silenced." Denton was packing as he talked. He too looked defeated and Al pressed her lips together.

"They're scared of us, we know that much," she said, holding the ice away from her mouth as she spoke. "That's gotta be somethin'." She replaced it with a small cringe.

"It's not like we can back down now," Sarah added. "We're stuck in this. We're in danger and we can't let 'em win after what they've done to us."

"Why can't we spread the strike?" Jack asked. Denton looked at him like he was crazy. "Have anothah big rally and spread the news out to all the sweatshop kids. Why not?"

David stood and stepped over to Jack. "What're we gonna do? Print an ad in the newspaper?" He looked skeptical but interested.

"No, we'll do bettah than that. We'll make our own papah. We tell 'em they gotta join us. Isn't that a good idea?" Jack was grasping, looking to Denton for approval.

When he didn't respond, David sidled around the edge of the table and clapped a hand on the older man's back.

"Yeah, it is. But what do we know about printing a newspaper?" He raised an eyebrow at Denton and nudged him slightly.

"Nothing, but our man Denton. . ." Jack offered, seeing where David was taking this.

"Oh, but our man Denton has something more important to do." David was almost mocking him now, bitter and tired from the last few days, though hope peered through his expression. A hope that he was clearly afraid to voice. "I mean, he's going to be an ace war correspondent. Right, Denton?"

Instead of being offended, as Al thought he might be, Denton was smiling and when David turned to look at him. The younger boy's face split into a grin. The older man grinned and let out a sigh.

"Alright, where do we start?"


	34. Our Dream

_**Author's Note: Ugh! I seriously can't wait until we get internet at the house. Trying to upload chapters and get homework done is seriously irritating when you have to go to Starbucks to get anything done. You'll likely get the next chapter sooner though. Since my first full week is over, I'm done with training- therefore, I won't be working from 9-6, but from 2-6. Much more reasonable, am I right? :P  
>Anyway, thank you so much to my faithful reviewers who still put up with my sporadic updates (though, to be honest, this is the fastest FF story I've ever writtenuploaded, so y'all are the lucky ones out of my readers). But seriously, y'all rock! So here's to Austra, Narniafan96, mysterygirl, BritishIsBetter639, Lucy Conlon, Rachel, Ealasaid Una, and LucyofNarnia for putting a smile on my face during this super busy week! :)**_

**Chapter 34- Our Dream**

Sarah suggested David and Al get cleaned up before they even thought about leaving Denton's place. The two chunks of ice the man had given them for their injuries had long since melted and the man told them they could use the rags they now held in their hands. The bathroom was around the corner to their left. The two found it and stood before the counter laughing at their own reflections.

The two were quite a sight. No wonder Denton had been so flabbergasted when they had shown up at his door. She had dried blood running down over her left eyebrow and her jaw where she'd been hit with the brass knuckles was swollen and purple. Her face was covered in dirt, grime, and sweat and her hair was falling out of her hat in random chunks that made her look quite ridiculous.

She had been eyeing David to make sure he was alright since the moment the fight ended, so his injuries were all but burnt into her memory. His right eye was nearly swollen shut now and his lips split. His knuckles strongly resembled ground meat.

When they had washed their faces and hands of the blood, Al made David lift his shirt so she could check for broken ribs and such. His stomach was one huge red-purple bruise that became a few mottled ones as the damaged reached his ribs. Upon inspection, she found his ribs were fine and she sent him out so she could do damage control on herself.

Her own stomach was in much better condition. There was a large purple area where Morris's boot had found her stomach and she didn't have to look to know there would be another where Shifty's shoe had landed on her shoulder. Her ribs were aching terribly, but the hit they'd received didn't seem to have done any extra damage and she was thankful for that.

It was less than an hour later that they found themselves in the World Distribution Center- underground in some sort of storage area. Jack explained that this was where he had been sleeping for the past few nights. David had been integral in getting them down here, though. He had retraced their steps from the time they escaped the bulls at the beginning of the strike, using rooftops and the fire escape that had been their beaming chance at freedom only a little over a week ago. Al personally thought it felt like years since then. She couldn't have remembered the way if she tried.

Les had been sent to the Newsboys Lodging House with instructions for Racetrack from Al. The kid brought money to pay for his and a few of the other kids' nightly rent, was told to sleep in Al and Jack's old bunk, and let Racetrack know that he needed to be at the Distribution Center an hour before dawn. She knew he would understand that this was important. He would show up, she was certain of it.

The night was a long one. They had to whisper as they worked and every time someone sneezed from the overwhelming amount of dust in the air, everyone would freeze for about three seconds and listen to see if they had woken anyone. When there was no movement of the boards above them, they would continue on.

David stuck close to Denton, who had redeemed himself in the boy's eyes and was also the only one who knew exactly what to do with the old printing press. He would give them each instructions- "Al, you grab that ink and bring it over here." "David, hand me that hammer." "Sarah, would you pump this peddle here?" "Jack, bring me that stack of papers."

It was Al who found the opening in the wall that was level with the street and just big enough for a body to fit through. It led out to the back of the Distribution Center. They decided that this would be the way they would give the papers to the boys. It sure beat trying to sneak back upstairs again.

The work was tedious but satisfying. The whispered conversations were alternately serious and hilarious to the point where Sarah would have to pinch her nose and hold a hand over her mouth to keep herself from snorting in laughter.

Al found herself watching David as she began tying the finished stacks of newspapers together. She was yawning every few minutes now, but enjoying the work. If she had to guess, she would say it was around three in the morning. Her fingers were itching for a cigarette, but she wanted to at least finish tying up the finished bundles before she stopped for a smoking break.

She felt so terribly sentimental as she watched him talk to Denton that she almost wanted to smack herself for being such a. . . well . . . girl. It wasn't like her to feel these flutters in her stomach when he smiled or feel like laughing with joy because he seemed so happy and in his element as he worked. He caught her looking at him and she turned back to her work quickly.

Finally, she could stand it no longer.

"I need a smoke. Bad." She kept her voice low as she spoke and pointed a thumb at the person-sized window. "I'm gonna take a quick break. Can someone gimme a boost?"

"It's not safe for you to be out there alone," David pointed out. "Not at this time of night. Someone should go with you."

He looked like he was about to volunteer when Jack stepped up. "I need a smoke too. I'll go with ya."

As her brother crouched and interlaced his fingers so his cradled hands would hold her foot, Al realized that David looked almost deflated. In the past few days, they had both gotten used to having plenty of time alone with each other. Maybe he missed spending that time together too. She bit back a shy smile as her brother boosted her through the window.

She helped Jack through and the two scurried across the empty square to an alleyway where they could light up. She lit her own cigarette first before helping Jack with his. The orange tips did little to light up the darkened area, but the glow from the streetlamp was close enough to keep either of them from worrying about what might be lurking in the dark.

Al moved close to her brother and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I missed ya, Jacky. It's good- havin' you back, I mean."

"I'm glad to be back," he answered quietly, but with sincerity. There was a long pause before he spoke again. "Where did ya sleep while I was gone?"

"I stayed with the Jacobs' the foist two nights. Then in an alleyway with Mush and Blink."

Jack nodded, but didn't comment. "An' you been eatin'?"

"Yeah," she lied, not wanting to cause her brother further pain.

"The boys mad at me?"

"Furious," Al responded honestly this time. It was necessary in this case. "You're gonna have one hell of a time gettin' their trust back again."

"I may not 'ave to."

"What's that mean?" Al asked, picking her head up off his shoulder so she could get a good look at him. If he thought she was going to keep being the leader, he had another thing coming. She was done being the head of the Manhattan newsies. That was a not a job she wanted. Second-in-command, even temporary leader- she could do those. Making this thing permanent was not something she was okay with.

"I'm thinkin' it's about time we high-tailed it outta New York. I mean, I wanna see the strike through. I owe everyone that much, but-" Here he turned and looked at her meaningfully, as if he were searching her eyes through the canopy of darkness. "Snyder ain't nevah gonna stop chasin' me- us. There's no future for us here. It's about time we followed our dream and headed down to Santa Fe."

Al looked away, scared her face would give her away. She felt her heart drop into her stomach. She didn't want to leave! This was her home. Her whole world was here. But she couldn't let Jack go without her. She just couldn't.

Still, that little seed of bitterness rose up in her. _'Our dream', he says. When has Santa Fe ever been my dream? When has he ever heard me talk about it the way he does? When have I ever even said I wanted to go?_

She mentally shook her thoughts away. Even if Jack _had_ asked, she would have lied through her teeth. She would have told him how much she longed to ride a horse, even though the idea scared her more than anything. She would have told him how much she would enjoy raising chickens, though the only encounter she had ever had with a chicken was one attacking her in the market and those scratches had kept her wary of them since. She would have told him she was eager to cook for them, though she was certain her cooking would only make them sick.

"You're right," she nodded, still not looking at him. She stared off into the middle distance, knowing she needed to account for how long it took her to respond. "I'm just gonna miss everyone, ya know?"

"Yeah." Jack sounded a little more subdued, then excitement filtered in. "But we can always write."

She wondered what Jack would say if she brought up Sarah. The two clearly had feelings for each other. Could he really just sweep that under the rug? Could he really reduce that to "I'll be sure to write"?

Suddenly Al had a headache.

"We'd bettah get back," Jack commented as he reached the end of his cigarette. She took one last drag of her own and let her brother help her up.

Al forced herself to suck it up for the rest of the night, but that conversation with Jack kept running through her head and threatened to drown out all else. There were multiple instances where the others would say something to her a few times before she heard them. She attributed her inattentiveness to her lack of sleep.

David and Al received their chance to spend some time together later that morning, when it was nearly time for Racetrack to meet them, but now she didn't want that time. She didn't want to get any closer to her new friend. She didn't want it to hurt any worse when they were torn apart.

The two raced to the alleyway next to the Distribution Center and waited for Racetrack. David's normally observant self was overcome by his exhaustion and excitement to the point where he was bouncing around on the heels of his feet and talking about how wonderful everything was now that Denton and Jack were back.

Al commented sparsely, but watched her friend with a growing level of amusement that irritated her. She didn't want to be feeling this fondness for he and his happiness. She wanted an easy departure. But the longer they stood there, the more she was drawn in and the grin tugging at her lips turned into a full-blown smile.

She puffed at her cigarette and yawned. "Why are you so bouncy?"

"Because I'm excited," David grinned. "Jack's back, Denton's back, the newsies are on strike, and you're happy again."

Al laughed and made to respond, but it was just then that Racetrack strode into the alleyway and they became serious.

"You bettah have a good reason for wakin' me up this early," the Italian boy siad, stifling a yawn of his own. "Where'd ya sleep last night? Me'n Specs were halfway out the door with pillows when Les showed up."

"Do I look like I slept?" Al asked. "Jack's back on our side."

Race suddenly looked wide awake. "Say what?"

"Jack," Al hedged, rubbing her palm against the back of her neck. "It's a long story, but he's back on our side. 'e was bein' blackmailed."

"Where is 'e?" Race asked stiffly, his right fist clenching and unclenching at his side.

"That's the other part of what's goin' on," David jumped in. "We're makin' a paper we need the boys to circulate."

He pulled a copy out of his pocket and Al wished she had been the one to think of bringing it to show him. Racetrack took it, still looking wary and skeptical as he stepped into a brighter area and squinted to read the paper he had been handed. When he finisheed, he looked back up at them as if studying their reactions as they studied his. Al couldn't make heads or tails of his expression.

"This is good," he finally commented, clearly surprised.

"We know," Al responded carefully, still trying to gauge her friend's reaction to everything. "Which is why it needs to be spread. You up for it?"

His dark brown eyes connected with hers for a long moment. "I'm up for spreadin' it. I don't know 'bout Jack yet."

"That's 'tween you'n him."

"Alright, I'll go get the boys."


	35. You're Crazy

_**Author's Note: It's been a busy week, but my work schedule has finally leveled out and I have time to do something other than work. Haha. I've also decided to participate in NaNoWriMo this time around, though I was a tad skeptical about it. But I've had an idea for a novel bouncing around in my head anyway, and NaNoWriMo seems like a good reason to get down to business on it. Are any of y'all participating this year?  
>Major thanks to Rachel, BritishIsBetter639, Austra, mysterygirl, Ealasaid Una, and lovingstories for your wonderful reviews! Thanks for sticking this out with me! We're almost to the end now! :P<strong>_

**Chapter 35- You're Crazy**

_I'm not afraid  
>To take a stand<br>Everybody, come take my hand  
>~Not Afraid: Eminem~<em>

Les was the first to make an appearance at their window.

"How'd ya sleep, little man?" Al asked, ruffling his hair as a sleepy grin split his face.

"Real good," Les answered. "I like the Lodge."

"Well if ya evah need a place to stay, it's always open," Jack commented, hefting a good-sized stack of papers into the boy's waiting arms. The youngest Jacobs boy hefted it onto his shoulder and moved away just as Runner's head poked in.

"Is Cowboy in there?" he asked quietly, almost sheepish.

"Yeah, hon, he's here. Ya wanna talk to 'im?" She angled herself so Runner could see Jack over her shoulder. Her brother was currently talking to Sarah while bundling up the last few stacks of Newsies Strike papers.

"Naw, that's alright." Runner let out a little sigh. "He's back with us for good this time, right?" The boy's hair fell in front of his dark blue eyes, but Al could see the worry in them. She felt her heart starting to break as she swept his hair out of his face.

"He ain't nevah gonna let anyone hoit us," she told him seriously, avoiding the niggling feeling that their leaving for Santa Fe would feel like betrayal to this poor little boy. "Remind me to give ya a haircut latah, alright?"

She handed him a stack of papers and then Race was the one leaning in the window.

"Mornin', doll."

"Ya send the boidie to Brooklyn I asked ya to?"

"'Course I did." He gave a lopsided grin that faded the moment he noticed Jack in the background. Al felt weariness wash over her.

"Good, now get to carryin' the bannah."

"Ah, the smell o' papes in the mornin'! How I've missed it!" he crooned dramatically and set off with the two bundles she had supplied him with.

The boys worked quickly and by the time they had hauled off most of their hard night's work, Al's arms were stiff and sore. David had taken her place at the window after a while and Denton left to go see a friend whom he said might be able help. Sarah and Jack were about to head off to help with the distribution.

"There are a couple of factories near the one I work at. The girls should be heading in any moment, so we've gotta move fast," Sarah was saying. "The girls at the Marsten factory are most likely join us. They've put up with enough abuse over the years."

Jack leaned his head back in, eyebrows raised seriously, "Yous two hurry up in here. Get the papes out and get out. If you hear someone comin' down the stairs, cheese it. Leave the papes and scram."

Al shoved his face back out of the window. "Stop wastin' time, ya bummah!" she laughed.

Hurrying back to the pile of papers on the other side of the room, she hauled them over to the wall next to David two stacks at a time. Her back was getting stiff now and the time between yawns was decreasing. Everything hurt, especially the bruises from being jumped yesterday.

"How many do we have left?" David asked as Bumlets left with two.

"Eh, a couple more stacks. I set aside four bundles for the two of us to give out when we're done."

"Good idea," David grunted as he hefted another two stacks onto the ledge of the window for Skittery, who had returned from his first trip already.

"How're you feelin'?" she asked, coming up beside David. She decided to make his work at least a little easier by handing him each stack as if the two made up a small assembly line.

"Sore. Definitely sore," David commented. "You?"

"I been bettah," she shrugged. "But I've also been a lot woise. An' I could definitely use a good washin'." Her hair hadn't become greasy yet and she didn't smell too bad, but she felt like she was covered in dust and ink right now. As if to prove her point, her hand had apparently left an inkstain on her breeches and she frowned when she realized it.

"Don't I know it?" he smirked.

"Shaddup!" Al laughed, elbowing him gently in the side and rolling her eyes. "You don't smell so great yourself and you got ink all ovah that shirt o' yours."

She laughed as he pursed his lips together and made a ridiculous face at her.

"It's good to hear you laugh again," David said seriously, though his smile stayed.

Al bit her lower lip to try and keep her own smile under control, rolling her eyes at him fondly. "You're crazy, David."

The pile had dwindled down to about seven stacks and David was getting impatient. If Al was honest with herself, she would admit that she was getting restless as well. It was nearly dawn and the scabbers would be showing up soon. They needed to get moving. After Specs came back for another two, they decided to head off. Between the two of them, they could manage the last five stacks.

Al slid out the window and let David stack them into her arms while she knelt in front of it. He pulled himself out, then took three of the stacks. Al had to stagger back onto her feet, but managed it without toppling over.

"We'd bettah move quick," Al told him, eyeing the graying sky above them.

"Any suggestions?"

"Well, I did notice a pretty big blacksmith's shop a couple o' streets from the Lodge."

They hurried through the streets that way, passing out as many of the papers as they could. They handed one to every boot-black, every chimney sweep, and every factory kid they came in contact with. It didn't take too long at the rate they were going and the two found themselves joining the others in Greeley Square almost an hour later.

Al stood between David and her brother, the tension thick throughout the newsie ranks. An invisible undercurrent of anticipation and mistrust ran thick through the crowd of Manhattan newsies. Even after Al had explained that Jack had been blackmailed and that he was now on their side, they eyed him with the expressions of those who had been wounded. And how could she blame them? They were wounded. As if their lives hadn't been hard enough before watching their leader turn scab.

It was one of those moments in which she was glad that she and Jack normally operated as a team, because it wasn't hard for them. Even with their general distrust of Jack now, they were firmly behind Al, so they would still listen. It was weird that she was a bit more at the forefront- that they were coming to she and David with any issues they had, instead of Jack- but it wouldn't last long. It wouldn't be long before they were gone and either David or Racetrack would have to handle the Manhattan boys.

Al groaned internally. She could hit Jack for having told her the news that they would be headed to Santa Fe as soon as this was over. It was ruining what she had expected to be a great day. Then again, the lack of people showing up to support them at the picketing outside the World Distribution Center was also working to dampen her good spirits.

David was wringing his hands beside her and his fidgeting made her antsy.

"Would you stop it?" she finally exclaimed, irritated. She smacked his hands away from each other.

"What?"

"Stop doing that. Everyone's already tense enough without your noivous habits gratin' on their noives."

"Gratin' on _your_nerves," he corrected with a pointed look. "And what about your nervous habits?"

"What noivous 'abits?"

"If you haven't rubbed all the skin off the bottom of your neck, I'm not sure you're human," he answered, grabbing at the hand that even now was rubbing at her collarbone. She yanked her arm out of his grasp and stuffed her hands in her pockets. Though, now that he mentioned it, the spot where she had been rubbing stung a little.

"Fine, I stopped, alright?" she huffed.

"You complained first." He tried to hide a smile by sucking his lips in through his teeth, but she ignored him.

"They ain't comin'," Al heard her brother saying. It looked like he was talking to Mush. "It ain't gonna be no one but us."

"Now why would ya go an' say somethin' like that?" Al asked, as she lit a cigarette and sauntered over to her brother. She could see that everyone looked dejected, including him, and didn't want them getting their spirits down.

"'Cause it's true, Ali. It didn't woik." Jack lifted his cap and ran a hand through his hair before settling it back atop his head again. The bags under his eyes stood in stark contrast to his lightly tanned skin and she wondered how many nights he had been having trouble sleeping. One all-nighter didn't yield those types of resuts. Al ought to know- the bags under her eyes were quite similar to her brother's.

"Well it's their loss then," she responded loudly, so the other newsies can hear. "We ain't gonna lose hope just 'cause o' that. We're gonna try again an' try hardah until we get it right."

Jack just sighed and gave her a one-armed hug.

"Alright, it's about time we got started," Racetrack clapped his hands together and then rubbed them against each other. The newsies started shouldering their picket signs and Race took a deep breath to start yelling out one protest chant or another when a dull roar made them all pause.

Al took a step forward, afraid to let hope rise in her chest, when she saw the crowd of kids turn the corner, led by the mail carriers. Racetrack and Kid Blink went wild to her left and all of a sudden Al found herself being squashed by Manhattan boys who were so excited that they were all hugging one another and screaming like little girls.

The number of protestors that came streaming into the square both shocked Al and made her want to burst into tears from sheer joy. Some carried signs and banners of their own and most held the Newsies Banner in their hands, waving it around like a flag.

Jack grabbed Al's face and grinned before planting a kiss on her forehead. "We did it, Ali!" His giddiness had her feeling like a little kid and her smile felt like it took up her entire face. She laughed excitedly as Sarah grabbed her in a bear hug next.

Dust billowed as the new strikers gathered together in the middle of the square. Spot made his appearance, most of Brooklyn trailing behind him, only seconds later.

"Didn't expect to see you here, Spot!" Jack called over the crowd, screaming for strike.

"Wasn't gonna miss somethin' this big!" he smirked.

As the Manhattan newsies moved to the the main entrance of the WDC, they practically had to fight their way through. Runner, Les, Boots, and a few of the other younger newsies found perches on the backs of their older counterparts. Jack gently pushed Sarah behind him so he would bear the brunt of flailing limbs and she would avoid getting hit by a stray arm or leg. Al and David tailed them, doing their best to avoid getting their bruised bodies jarred by the flailing limbs as well.

Al couldn't help but study the people around them. Boot blacks (shoe-shine boys), factory girls, mail carriers in their shiny red uniforms, newsies in their newsboy caps, all types of kids, teenagers, and young adults who had felt the heavy weight of oppression from their superiors gathered to rally against it. They knew it wasn't likely that this protest would yield results for them. In fact, it was entirely likely that they would get in trouble for ditching today. But they stood with the newsies, waving their fists and their banners, crying out against those who would take advantage of their situations- because if the newsies could strike, so could the blacksmith boys and the seamstresses from the shirtwaist factory.

If Pulitzer backed down before an army of children, perhaps their bosses would think twice about treating them as if they were worthless.

Racetrack pushed his way up to them and got both Al and Jack's attention, still unwilling to acknowledge Cowboy as his leader again, but at least making headway in forgiveness. "Dear me," he said, pulling his cigarette from his mouth as he spoke. "What have we here?"

He pointed with his cigarette hand as a gray-haired man surveyed the crowd from the front doors of the building, looking perturbed and concerned at the same time.

"We should go talk to him. He'll probably let us go see Pulitzer now and we can tell him our demands," David told them loudly, yelling above the crowd in order to be heard by his friends.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Jack asked, not taking his eyes from the man as he spoke to them over his shoulder and, consequently, Les's leg.

"We can go without you if ya want, Jacky," Al suggested softly. She was just as scared of the chance that her brother would go back to the Refuge as he was.

Instead of accepting her offer, though, she watched as Jack's shoulders stiffened. "Naw, I ain't gonna let 'im scare me. I'm in this 'til the end. Let's go."

Racetrack clapped Al's brother on the back and that was when she realized that the Italian newsie had forgiven his leader. He grinned and took another drag from his cigarette. "Go get 'im, Cowboy."


	36. Nice Try

_**Author's Note: The voting for the Newsies Summer Reading Fan Fiction Awards has finally begun! Go check the link on my profile to vote for me and my stuff or whoever you think should win! Don't be fooled by the misspelling of my name and Alison's on there- it's still me! Haha. Not sure how that happened. . .  
>Anyway, thank y'all so much for the reviews! I didn't even realize we'd hit 200 until y'all pointed it out! How awesome. I feel so blessed to hear from y'all. Y'all's reviews just keep getting better and better as we draw closer to the end! :) So a thousand thank you's to lovingstories, Ealasaid Una, mysterygirl, lc, Narniafan96, LucyofNarnia, and Rachel for making me smile! :D<strong>_

**Chapter 36- Nice Try**

_Hear me out now  
><em>_You're gonna listen to me, like it or not  
><em>_I can't feel the way I did before  
><em>_Don't turn your back on me  
><em>_I won't be ignored  
><em>_~Faint:Linkin Park~_

The three strike leaders were ushered up the stairs and into an elaborate office space, complete with a sitting area and everything, by the man Racetrack had pointed out. He introduced himself as Mr. Seitz. He had a heavy and firm brow, but compassionate eyes and graying hair. Al was surprised to see someone who appeared to be so kind in a place like this. Then again, everyone needed some way to feed their families, didn't they?

When they made it to Mr. Pulitzer's office, Seitz was immediately greeted by a skinny, ginger, effiminate, rake of a man who looked like he was ready to faint.

"It's awful," the man said, pulling Seitz aside but not out of earshot of the three teenagers who stood in the doorway. "Everyone's calling- Mr. Hearst, Mr. Mettlan, and the mayor- and such awful language. The city's at a standstill and they all blame the chief. It's like the end of the world. Oh dear, I didn't say that."

Al muffled a chuckle that had the fidgety man looking oddly at her as she, David, and Jack moved past the two ment to where Pulitzer was standing behind his desk. The older man, whose hair was also a fading shade of ginger, was smoking a cigar and ignoring the ringing phone on his desk.

_This must be Pulitzer,_ Al realized, taking in the sight of him. To be honest she had expected someone more. . . well, imposing at least. This man didn't appear like much to her. Sure, he had the fancy clothes and the nice spectacles, the expensive office and a strong stature going for him, but he still seemed like just an old man with a penchant for expensive toys. She knotted her eyebrows together and studied him and Jack moved to stand right in front of his desk.

"Extry, Extry, Joe," Jack said, his voice taunting as he unfolded the Newsies Banner he had brought along with him and set it in the middle of the desk. "Read all about it."

Al waited, holding her breath, to see his reaction as she sidled up behind her brother. The old man was leaning over and casting a disinterested look at the paper before him. He stood and shot Jack a condescending once-over.

"I promised if you defied me I'd break you. I'll keep that promise, boy."

"I'd like to see you try," Al growled. She didn't care who this creep was. No one threatened her brother like that without recompense. Jack threw a frustrated glance in her direction, but she didn't have time to question it because Pulitzer's attention was on her now.

"Who are you supposed to be?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Al Kelly. I'd say it's nice to meet ya, but then I'd be lyin'." She crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down.

"Impertenance doesn't become you, girl," Pulitzer retorted, his upper lip curling in disgust as he looked at her. Al didn't know what 'impertenance' meant, but she knew it wasn't a compliment. He turned his attention back to Jack. "Now I gave you the chance to be free. I don't understand. Anyone who doesn't act in his own self-interest is a fool."

"Then what does that make you?" David asked. All eyes turned on the sixteen year-old.

"What?" Pulitzer was confused by the new voice.

David stepped forward as Jack introduced him. "This is my pal, David, the Walkin' Mouth."

"You talk about self-interest," David said, leaning his fists on the end of the desk as he spoke. "But since the strike, your circulation's been down seventy percent. Every day you're losing thousands of dollars just to beat us out of one lousy tenth of a cent. Why?"

Al and Jack both appraised their friend with impressed looks. Math wasn't something most newsies ever learned. Numbers that didn't represent ages or money meant nothing to them. Therefore, David's summing up of Pulitzer's losses in percentages surprised and impressed the Kelly siblings.

"See it ain't about the money, Dave," Jack explained when Pulitzer didn't bother to acknowledge him. "If Joe gives in to nobodies like us, it means we got the powah. He can't do that. No mattah what it costs. Am I right, Joe?"

"I sent for the police," Pulitzer responded, nonchalantly puffing at his cigar. "Send 'em in, Seitz."

The boys recoiled like the desk they had been leaning on had caught fire. Al felt her stomach drop as she did the opposite and slammed a fist on the desk now.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she hissed. "Ya scared of us, Joe?" Still fuming, she turned toward her brother, ready to tell him he should get moving before the bulls showed up, but he was already moving past her and around the desk.

"I ain't goin' back to jail, Joe!' he cried. Al and David exchanged glances. If he tried to pull anything crazy, they were going to have to hightail it out of there.

David tilted his head toward something behind her. Seitz still hadn't moved. He hadn't sent for the bulls yet. She let out a small sigh of relief even as Jack continued his display. "Look out here. Right out here is where your powah ends!"

Jack opened the giant double-doored window situated right behind Pulitzer's chair that led out to a balcony. The roar of the strikers rushed into the room like a tidal wave of noise and Al felt a grin split her face. She had never been this high up in her life and she hadn't expected the noise to be able to reach so high. She certainly hadn't expected it to be this loud from here.

Pulitzer's instant reaction was to clap his hands over his ears and start howling above the noise, screaming for Jack to close the windows.

"This guy's got somethin' loose in the head," Al whispered to David, who nodded without taking his eyes from the display. Then Pulitzer waved his arms and shouted at the strikers beneath him before he turned and screamed at Jack. Al tried to make out what they were saying, but while she could hear their voices, she couldn't make out all of the words over the sound. She only caught bits and pieces.

"There's a lot of people out there. An' they ain't just gonna go away!" Jack said as he stepped out of the window, following Pulitzer who had decided to hide away in his chair with his fingers in his ears. "They've got voices now an' they're gonna be listened to. Putting me in jail is not gonna stop them! That's the powah of the press, Joe." Jack moved to close the window again, mostly so he wouldn't have to compete with the noise to be heard. "So thanks for teachin' me about it."

Al watched the man who had just yanked his fingers out of his ears. She gave him a condescending look, what did he think he was accomplishing by acting like a three year old who didn't want to hear his mother's scolding? He had shown weakness. He should have known better than to do something like that in front of street kids. He should have known they would have lost any respect or fear that they would have had for him otherwise.

The only thing that was 'concerning' her right now was the fact that Seitz could walk out and have the bulls in here in seconds and she would be damned if she let them take Jack again. She made sure to keep Pulitzers assistant, or whatever he was, in her peripheral vision so she could at least be warned before he made a run for the police.

To her surprise, though, it was Seitz who spoke up next. "Those kids put out a pretty good paper there, Chief."

As if realizing it was on his desk for the first time now, Pulitzer leaned down and snatched up the Newsies Banner with one hand and took a magnifying glass into his other. He examined the crumpled up sheet of paper before him.

"I ordered a printing ban on all strike matters. Now who defied it?" Pulitzer asked angrily. "Whose press did you use to print this? Whose?"

"Well, we only used the best, Joe, so I just wanna say," Jack leaned down to get on eye level with the man. "Thanks again."

Al literally burst into laughter before thinking better of it and clapping a hand over her mouth. Jack rolled his eyes at her, but a grin tugged at his own lips as David clapped him on the back.

It took Pulitzer a few more seconds to find the words he needed. "What do you mean? You used mine?"

"You should think twice afore you let an enemy sleep in ya territory, Joe," Al said, letting a smirk grace her features. "That's one o' the foist things ya loin as a newsie."

Pulitzer's visage darkened, but he didn't respond, so David cut in. He leaned on the newspaper man's desk again as he spoke.

"Look, all we want is for you to drop the prices or make some sort of concession that keeps the newsies from starving because they can't pay your rates. You help us and we'll be outta your hair again- you'll be rollin' in money again."

"Hell, you'll prolly make even more'n usual," Al added. "'Cause everyone'll be runnin' for their papes when they see that yous is back in business again."

"You're a smart man, Mr. Pulitzer," David continued. "You've tested our resolve an' you know we're stickin' with this. Let's end it before either side loses any more."

Pulitzer leaned back in his chair and began puffing away at his cigar again, but this time he looked interested.

It took nearly half an hour of debating back and forth before they came to an agreement. Pulitzer had long since forgotten about the bulls and Al realized that Seitz was actually lobbying for the newsies in all of this, much to her relief, so it didn't look like he was going to call for them to haul Jack off anytime soon.

When they finally emerged from the building, the sunlight was nearly blinding. Al had to squint in order to see at first. Seitz led them out through the gates of the WDC and the crowd stopped yelling as their three strike leaders stepped out into the midst of them.

David stepped over to his sister, who had been left with Racetrack for safekeeping, and put an arm over her shoulder. His face didn't betray the news and neither did Al's when Racetrack slung an arm around her.

"How'd it go, Cap?" he asked. She didn't answer. She turned toward Jack and by unspoken agreement, it was decided that he would share the news.

Grabbing Les, who was practically attached to his waist, he slung the boy onto his shoulders and yelled, "We beat 'em!" as loud as he could.

The strikers erupted in cheers and celebration. Al was bombarded by teenagers swarming to congratulate her. Racetrack's arm slipped away and she found herself engulfed in numerous hugs and shoved around by excited boys and girls. The only way she knew she was near her brother was because Les was sitting on his shoulders only a few feet away and above her.

"Jack! Jack, it's the bulls! Lemme down," Les suddenly cried and the newsies around her stopped cheering. Al felt someone grab her arm and pull her over to Jack.

Kid Blink and Racetrack pushed her into Jack and started trying to move the two of them to the back of the group so they could make a clean exit, though Al couldn't figure out where to. She could see the bulls' wagon not far from them, but didn't know how far they could make it in this crowd. Jack grabbed her hand and started to dash to their right when suddenly Denton was standing in their way, holding Jack by his upper arms.

"Jack, it's over!" Denton said. The boys pulled at the two of them, trying to get them around the reporter and to safety. "No, no, no. You don't have to run anymore. Not from the likes of him. Come on."

Denton pushed an incredibly reluctant Jack back toward the barred carriage. Al followed, confused and incredibly antsy. She could see Snyder clearly sitting in the front of the carriage. He didn't look too pleased with himself, which was a good thing, but she was still nervous.

"Denton?" she asked, uncertain.

It was then that she saw the policeman open the rear of the barred carriage and at least seven or eight boys from the Refuge came pouring out. Al grinned and quickened her step, she recognized some of the boys who had been incarcerated years ago. She hadn't been close to any of them, but Jack had become good friends with a couple of them when he had been stuck in the Refuge. Her heart still soared for them.

Then one of the bulls moved to push Snyder through the door and Al thought her heart would burst from pleasure. She opened her mouth to say something, but Crutchy beat her to it, having come up behind her.

"Remembah, Mr. Snyder, the foist thing ya do when you're in jail? You should make friends with the rats. Share what ya got in common."

Al grinned and stepped forward, wondering if it would be stepping beyond her bounds to punch the man in the face. "Remembah me, Snyder? Melissa Sullivan?" she sneered and leaned into his face. "Nice try." It was the only thing she could think of to say and it summed up everything she was feeling at the moment. It was all she needed. She knew he understood.

The sound of the door slamming, locking the man in, was the most gratifying sound Al Kelly thought she had ever heard in her entire life.

.


	37. Never Once Asked

_**Author's Note: So I just spilled my Iced Carmel Macchiato all over the floor and had to clean it up while everyone at Starbucks was just sitting there watching me. Instead of running away and crawling under a rock, I stayed so I could edit this chapter and get it to you.  
>Also, most of y'all seemed to think this was the last chapter. Nop! We've got one more before the end! So here's your second to last chapter!<br>A bazillion thanks to my reviewers: Lucy Conlon, Austra, BritishIsBetter639, lovingstories, Ealasaid Una, Rachel, Narniafan96, mysterygirl, and maxsmilesalot. Y'all are amazing. :)**_

**Chapter 37- Never Once Asked**

_I'm letting go  
><em>_Of the life I planned for me  
><em>_And my dreams  
><em>_I'm losing control of my destiny  
><em>_It feels like I'm falling and that's what it's like to believe  
><em>_So I'm letting go  
><em>_~I'm Letting Go: Francesca Battistelli~_

"You won't be seein' much of him anymore," Denton announced as Al moved to stand beside him again. "Say 'Goodbye, Warden!'"

"Goodbye, Warden!" the boys (and girl) around him cheered. The entire group of kids and teenagers still loitering about in the Square screamed their approval of Snyder's arrest. Judging from the way they acted, he wasn't just the bane of the newsies' existence. Apparently, he'd been giving plenty of other kids trouble too.

"How'd you do it, Denton?" David asked, moving closer to the group, his arm still firmly around his sister as if he were afraid she would get lost if he didn't hold on to her.

"An old friend," the man laughed. He stretched an arm out and pointed. They all turned, only to find him pointing at Governor Theodore Roosevelt. Al's mouth dropped open in surprise. "The governor's very grateful you brought this problem to his attention," he continued, looking at Jack. "I said you might need a lift somewhere. He said he's glad to oblige. Anywhere you want. This time, you ride inside."

"So, uh, could 'e drop me at the train yards?"

Al felt like all the air had been sucked out of her. In all of the excitement and the ruckus, she had completely forgotten about what Jack had told her the night before. She had forgotten all about Santa Fe and Jack's endless yearning for it. Even as the newsies around them hushed, she lost her ability to breathe.

Without even bothering to say his goodbyes, Jack started moving toward the carriage grabbing peoples' outstretched hands like he was a movie star and laughing. He didn't seem to notice the fact that she had frozen in place, feeling like her feet were made of lead.

"Ya goin' with 'im, doll?" Racetrack asked, grabbing her hand. His smile had vanished, but he didn't look upset. He had his perfectly crafted mask on. He had always known it was only a matter of time before the Kelly siblings left. She had always known it too, but she couldn't seem to find her own mask.

"Yeah," she responded, blinking rapidly in order to regain her senses. "Just gotta say goodbye real quick." She wrapped him in a bear hug and he squeezed her back.

"You make sure Jacky-boy takes real good care o' ya, alright?"

"I will. Write me, okay?" she asked. He nodded and she hoped to God he meant it.

She squeezed through some other newsies and found Runner with the Jacobs'. She kissed both he and Les on the forehead.

"You two watch out for each othah, alright?" They nodded and she stood to give Sarah a bear hug. "You been like the sistah I nevah had. Thanks for everythin'."

Sarah nodded, already crying. "I'll miss you. You'll write as soon as you get settled?"

"I'll write on the train." Al laughed, refusing to let herself cry.

_Crying is for sissies, Al. Don't you dare cry,_ she reminded herself swiftly. She had to suck it up or she wouldn't be able to make it.

"Jack?" Sarah asked weakly.

"He don't do goodbyes. They're too 'ard for 'im. But he'll write. I promise." Al wished she could offer more comfort, but she couldn't.

Then she found herself in front of David and she lost the ability to speak. She lurched forward to wrap her arms around him and he did the same, holding her tightly against himself. She bit her lower lip until she nearly tasted blood. That was when she knew she had to pull away or risk not leaving at all.

"You don't have to go," David said, but even he knew it sounded weak and the argument was pointless. They'd had this discussion before and nothing had changed since then. Al looked into his eyes and wished she didn't have to go. She wanted to stay here with him, find out everything about him, find out what it would be like to be his girl.

"I'll write. You're my best friend, Dave. Ya know that?"

He nodded, but he still carried that wounded expression that was slowly killing her. She started to turn away, then stopped. Without further hesitation she went up on her toes, grabbed David by the shoulders, and smashed her lips into his.

She had never kissed anyone before, but she did her best, moving her lips to catch his and trying to fill that goodbye kiss with all the emotions she felt coursing throug her. She felt David's hands on her waist and his mouth kissing her back.

She almost lost herself in the moment, in that one kiss, but reality hit her and she pulled away. She didn't look at him one last time, she couldn't bear to. She merely slipped into the crowd, David's taste still on her lips and tears clogging up her throat.

"Al!" She couldn't turn when he called for her. No, she had to go. She had to leave now. She hurried through, issuing quick hugs to Skittery and Specs, wishing she had time or the energy to hug everyone she knew before she left.

She pushed and shoved her way through the crowd and grasped Jack's extended hand when she reached the carriage. The moment she was seated, it lurched forward through the crowd and broke free of the many kids and teenagers. It wasn't long before they were on practically empty streets.

Al put on her best poker face, even though she felt her heart ripping in two. She shouldn't have kissed him, she realized. She only made it harder on them both. Still, how could she regret it? She couldn't. She was glad they had been able to share that one kiss before they were forced to part ways.

"Al? You gonna answer 'im?" Jack's voice cut through her thoughts.

"Huh?"

"I said it's nice to meet you, young lady," Mr. Roosevelt laughed.

"Oh, nice to meet you too, sir."

"So where are you young folks headed?" The man asked, puffing away at an expensive looking pipe.

"Santa Fe," Jack said proudly. "We's gonna get ourselves a ranch an' horses an' everythin'."

"And what made you decide now was the time to go?"

"Well, things 'ave been real rough lately an' I finally got the chance to get me'n my sis off the streets," Jack answered, shrugging.

Roosevelt nodded with a small smile. "So you've decided it's time to go?"

"Yeah," Jack answered a tad more quietly than before. He ran a hand through his hair and adjusted his bandanna.

"You seem to be a little uncertain about that, son," Roosevelt said, shifting a little in his seat as he spoke. Al perked up at this, wondering what the governor was talking about. "Why is that?"

"Well," Jack hedged looking as if he were fumbling for the right words. His gaze swept over the cobblestone drive and the shops they were steadily passing. "I'm just gonna miss everyone, that's all."

"And who's everyone?"

"Well, I'm the leadah of the 'Hattan newsies," Jack shrugged. "So it's basically everyone ya just saw."

"You're very close with these newsies." It wasn't a question, just a statement.

"'Course I am. Known most of 'em for years now. Plus, I got a goil back there."

"Oh really?" Roosevelt let a pleased smile spread across his face. "Tell me about her."

"Well, 'er name's Sarah. Sarah Jacobs. She's got brown hair'n brown eyes and she's prolly the prettiest goil I evah laid eyes on. She's smart too. Got a brain on 'er an' she uses it. She helped with printin' them bannahs we passed out, even though she didn't have to. She gets on real well with Al too." Jack grew more and more subdued as he talked, looking distracted with the thought of her.

"And the other newsboys?"

"Well, there's David, the Walkin' Mouth. He's kinda new, but he helped me'n Al start the strike. He was the brains behind the whole operation. Must run in the familiy. He's Sarah's brothah." Jack smiled, but Al turned her head away, feeling tears prick her eyes at the mention of her friend's name. She hadn't expected the conversation to take a turn toward the subject of her own thoughts. It was already taking everything in her to stay on this carriage instead of running back to him. "An' Les, their lil' bruddah. He's made real good friends with Runner. Now Runner's been beggin' for a wood sword like the one Les's got. Then there's Racetrack, he helped Al an' I get a place at the Lodge when we lived there. Then there's Mush, Blink, Skittery, an' Crutchy. An' a bunch of other boys too."

"You seem to be having second thoughts," Roosevelt observed. Al held her breath. She wasn't sure she could believe this.

"It ain't like we got a place we can go back to," Jack reasoned, his fingers now fidgeting with the bandana around his neck. "We ain't got no place to live, 'cause lodgin' houses don't take goils and boardin' rooms'd get too expensive aftah a couple o' months, even with what Pulitzer gave me."

Silence prevailed in the small buggy for a good minute or two before the governor turned to Al. "And you? What's taking you to Santa Fe?"

Al blanched. No one had ever asked for her opinion on Santa Fe except for David. Everyone else had just wanted to know if she was going too and assumed that, if she was going, she must want to. She felt her throat dry up.

"I- uh. . . Well, I'm goin' with my bruddah." She knew it sounded lame, but it was the only thing she could think of on the spot.

"But surely you're excited?" She knew when her hesitation had lasted too long. The governor sat back smoking a pipe and studying her. "You don't want to go." He didn't even phrase it as a question. It was a statement that they both knew was true.

Al felt her brother's eyes turn on her and she refused to look at him, like she often did when she didn't want to confront something.

"It's not that," she hurried to fix things. "I'm just gonna miss everyone." At least that much was true. But she was so caught off-guard and antsy that it came out just as bad as an amateur liar would have stated it.

She spared a glance at her brother now and saw him run a hand through his hair again. She dropped her head in her hands and groaned. Here she was, messing everything up again. It was Jack's only dream: Santa Fe. She didn't want to be responsible for taking it away from him.

When she looked up, Jack was looking at her with a confused and troubled expression on his face. Doubt flickered in his eyes and he was quiet for a long moment. Mr. Roosevelt seemed to know he shouldn't interfere and didn't speak either.

"I nevah asked what you wanted to do." It was a sudden realization and he said it quietly, looking like he wanted to kick himself. "Oh God, Al, I been plannin' this for years an' I nevah once asked how you felt about it or nothin'." Al wanted to reassure him, say something that made him feel better, but her mouth felt dry. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth and her emotions were all jumbled and confused after everything that had happened. Not only was she exhausted, which always tended to make her testy, but everything else that was happening had decided to cram itself into one morning. "Do you even wanna go to Santa Fe?"

Al didn't want to answer. She didn't want to see what it looked like when her brother's dream was shot down. She didn't want to ruin the very thing he had been longing for years before now. He seemed to sense her internal debate and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"We don't have to go now. Snyder's not aftah us anymore, we can sell papes again. You ain't ruinin' nothin'," he told her sincerely. "Maybe now's not the right time. Maybe we should wait."

"I kissed 'im." Al wanted to smack herself the moment the words rolled off her tongue.

"What?"

Now she had to clarify. "I kissed him- David." She chewed on her lower lip for a moment. "I really like 'im."

"Like _kissed_ _'im_ kissed him?" Jack asked, beyond surprised.

Al nodded, a sheepish smile creeping across her lips.

"That's it. Turn the carriage around," he ordered, a huge smile tearing at his face. "We needa go back. Sorry, governah."

"No trouble at all," the man laughed as the driver changed directions.

"No, Jack, what about your dream?"

"What about _your_ dream, Al? An' what about Sarah?" He suddenly looked pale. "She's gonna be so hoit that I left 'er. Didn't even say goodbye. 'Sides the 'Hattan boys still need me. Race ain't gonna be able to handle 'em all by hisself."

Al was surprised at how quickly her brother had changed his mind. "Are you sure, Jack?"

"I still got things I gotta get done here. I think Santa Fe can wait for me a lil' longah." He winked at her and Al suddenly felt like she could breath again. She felt like running and jumping.

She realized she was about to see David again after she had kissed him so unexpectedly and suddenly butterflies were trying to burst from her stomach.

Al gripped the side of the carriage and felt like her smile would literally split her face in two.


	38. More'n Alright

_**Author's Note: The Newsies "Summer Reading List" Fanfiction Awards results are in! We Run the Papes won multiple awards, including Best Narrative and Best Love Story. Also, Alison and David got some great awards too- they got Best Couple, David got Summer's Most Dashing Hero, and Al got second place for Summer's Leading Lady! Thank all of y'all so much for your support and everything. You guys are freaking amazing!  
>And thanks to mysterygirl, BritishIsBetter639, Rachel, Austra, Ealasaid Una, lovingstories, maxsmilesalot, LucyofNarnia, and Narniafan96 so much for your beautiful reviews!<strong>_

**Chapter 38- More'n Alright**

_I let it fall  
><em>_My heart  
><em>_And as it fell, you rose to claim it  
><em>_It was dark and I was over  
>Until you kissed my lips and you saved me<br>My hands, they're strong  
>But my knees were far too weak<br>To stand in your arms  
><em>_Without falling to your feet  
>~Set Fire to the Rain: Adele~<em>

By the time they had reached the Distribution Center, Al felt like she could barely contain herself. She felt like she would explode at the slightest provocation. She found herself searching for an inkstained shirt and curly brown hair half covered by a brown cap. Her heart pounded against her chest like it was trying to break free and she wondered what she would say to him when she found him. Nothing came to mind.

Jack and Mr. Roosevelt talked the entire way back and none of it was of interest to her. Her brother was talking about all the things he had almost neglected to do and how sure he was that Sarah was the most beautiful girl in existence.

Her attention wasn't drawn back to the carriage until Mr. Roosevelt asked about where they lived. Jack had responded with the simple fact that they didn't live anywhere. No newsboy lodge would accept a girl and Jack wouldn't leave his sister. He said that, with the money Pulitzer had given them, they might be able to rent a room at a boarding house for a month or two. Maybe then they could find something that would work. They would just have to play it by ear.

When Roosevelt told them he could buy them a room that would be theirs for as long as they wanted, Al nearly fainted.

"You're kiddin', right?" she asked, her jaw hanging open.

"No, I couldn't bear to see the two of you separated and you're such fine young people! If you ever need my help, I am more than willing to offer it."

When Jack mentioned that the shop next to the Lodging House had an upstairs that they were actually renting out as a living space, Roosevelt promised he would have the contract ready for them by sundown.

They reached the Distribution Center at that point. It was seconds after the first newsie laid eyes on them that a roar rose up in the courtyard. Suddenly, the carriage was swarmed with newsies, particularly those from the Lodge, who were more than a little excited that their friends had decided to stay with them.

"He's back! She's back! They're back!" Mush cried excitedly, yanking on Kid Blink's sleeve in a manner that was more than likely to tear it if he kept at it.

The three passengers of the carriage stood and Al lurched forward, wrapping her arms around the older gentleman. "Thank you! Thank you so much for everything," she cried. She turned to kiss her brother on the cheek and repeated her thanks before she jumped down.

Runner was the first one to get a hold on her, having taken some sort of a flying leap toward her. She hefted him up, even though he was too big for her to be carrying. She planted a few kisses on his face and told him she was happy to see him. He looked like he had been crying.

Racetrack had his arms around her before she could properly release the boy. Now Al was having trouble keeping herself from crying. She was definitely getting choked up. Her longtime friend planted a kiss on her forehead and laughed.

"I was gonna miss ya, doll," he grinned.

"I'm glad ya don't have to, then."

She was bombarded by Mush, Skittery, Specs, and even Kid Blink (who rarely handed out hugs) before she saw Sarah push through the crowd heading straight for Jack. The moment she reached him, the two engulfed each other in a kiss and Al found herself whooping along with all the other boys who were hooting and calling out to them.

She continued to scan the crowd for David, but she couldn't find him. Surely he was still here? But maybe he had already gone to start selling papers. She elbowed her way to Sarah, stopping only to give Les a quick hug.

"Where's David?" Al asked once she had garnered the older girl's attention.

Sarah's eyes widened and she turned, grabbing Al by the shoulders. "He went after you. He went to the train station to stop you." She looked almost guilty at not having said something sooner.

She didn't need to hear any more. She pushed and shoved through the crowd of newsboys, though most parted for her, until she reached open space. The moment she was out on the street, she started running.

With each pounding footstep, she found her heart racing twice as fast. She hitched a ride on the back of a carriage that, thankfully, didn't have a window to the back so she didn't have to crouch to keep out of sight. All of her fear that David might not have had feelings for her were gone now. He had gone after her. He had gone to keep her from getting on that train and leaving him here. He wouldn't do that if he didn't care for her too.

The very idea made her feel buzzed and she couldn't hide the grin that threatened to jump off her face and go running for the train station on its own. She felt jittery and antsy all at once. She wished she could run with a cigarette, but decided that idea would probably go down in flames. It definitely wouldn't be her brightest idea.

When the carriage turned in a direction that wouldn't lead any closer to the train station, Al jumped off of it and nearly lost her footing when she did. She grasped at the edge of a fruit stand and used it to keep herself from falling flat on her face, ignoring the protests of it's owner.

"'Scuse me, Miss," Al asked, seeing a slightly older teenage girl near her who was inspecting a piece of fruit she seemed intent on buying. "How close is the train station?"

"About a minute's walk away," the other girl answered, confirming Al's suspicions.

"An' which direction would it be in?" She thought she knew, but didn't want to take her chances. She wanted to get to David as soon as humanly possible.

"Just that way." The girl pointed south of them and Al took off in a sprint, calling her thanks over her shoulder.

When she reached the station, she wasted no time looking for her friend, but the hustle and bustle of the station only managed to frustrate her efforts. All around her, hoity-toity types were pushing and shoving, carting around luggage bigger than themselves, and arguing with each other. She puffed out her breath causing the bangs that peeked out from under her cap to blow every which way before settling back onto her forehead.

Yelling for David would get her nowhere except at the receiving end of a couple hundred glares, so Al adjusted her vest before pushing into the crowded area in search of the boy. She plowed her way through the random bystanders having absolutely no idea where she was going, but keeping a steady eye out for a patch of curly brown hair and the most handsome pair of blue eyes she had ever seen.

Finally, she tugged on a seemingly unoccupied man's sleeve, hoping he would assist her.

"Yeah?" he asked gruffly, pulling his arm away and glaring at the shorter girl.

"'Scuse me, Sir, but have ya see a boy 'bout this tall," She raised her hand about six or so inches above her head, where she calculated he might stand. Her nose was generally level with David's chin, so she thought that would be about right. "With brown, curly 'air, blue eyes, an' freckles? Looks like a newsie? Brown cap?" She listed all the details she could think of.

The man made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat and waved a hand at the crowd. "How am I supposed to know? Go bug someone else."

"Thanks for nothin'," Al grumbled. She started to head back into the crowd when she thought of a better question. "Know where the trains headed for Santa Fe are headed?"

"No."

On the verge of tears from frustration, Al finally decided that she would never find David at the rate she was going unless she found some direction in this maze of a train station. So she did the only thing she knew to do, which was push her way to the front of the information desk.

Getting by the women in the long line was relatively easy. Al didn't have an imposing stature, not by a long shot, but newsies didn't have the greatest reputations and with her looking like a boy, most merely shuffled out of her way with a disapproving look. The men were a bit harder. They yelled as she pushed by them and some of them made to grab at her. One of them smacked her in the back of the head and another tried to pull her backward by her vest so she wouldn't butt in front of them, yet she managed to pass them all up.

When she reached the desk, she piped up immediately, scared she would get knocked out of the line and have to push her way through a second time. "'Scuse me! Where're the trains to Santa Fe?"

"All the southbound trains are that-a-way," one of the clerks responded.

Al was headed in that direction in seconds. Thankfully, it was at that point that the crowd thinned. There were only three different areas where people could load onto trains and she made quick work of searching them, chancing upon David in the second one.

A few other families were meandering about on the platform, most of them wiping at their eyes with handkerchiefs and talking about how much they were going to miss "Aaron" or "Peter" as they slowly made their way past her to the exit.

David, however, was sitting alone on a bench. He was hunched over with his head in his hands, looking dejected for all the world to see.

In a last ditch effort to look at least somewhat girly, Al pulled off her newsie cap and brushed her fingers quickly through her hair before going towards him. When she was halfway there, she called out his name.

David's head shot up and his eyes locked with her instantly. They were wet with unshed tears. He looked at her as if she were a ghost and the intensity of his gaze stopped her in her tracks. She twisted her cap awkwardly in her hands.

When she stopped moving, it seemed to spur him into action. Suddenly, David was up and moving toward her, his face a mask of emotions she couldn't even begin to fathom. When he reached her, he grabbed her face. His palms were warm against her cheeks and his fingertips spread over her ears and wove into her hair.

"You're here." It was a statement that had the slight hint of a question. His eyes bored into hers, drilling her with all the questions he never seemed to stop asking.

"Yeah, Jack an' I are-"

Whatever else she was going to say was forgotten when David's lips crashed into hers and Al found herself swept into his kiss. She wrapped her arms around his back as she kissed him back. It was a kiss filled with longing and passion, hope and joy. Happiness bubbled up inside of her and she laughed into his mouth, smiling against his lips.

When they finally pulled away, neither of them let go of their hold on the other. Al's smile was mirrored on David's face and she couldn't help but laugh again as she realized it. She felt like every inch of her being was filled with happiness, like she might burst from the inside because of it. It didn't matter that people were giving them odd or disdainful looks right now. For this moment, it was only the two of them in the entire world.

"You didn't leave." David sounded like he was barely keeping himself from shouting it out. "You didn't leave me."

"How could I?" She wondered now if she would have been able to get on the train at all. She realized there was no going back now. Not after this. There was no leaving David ever again.

He laughed. "I guess I'd better ask Jack for his permission."

"His permission?"

"For you to be my girl," David clarified. "That is, if that's alright with you."

Al grinned again. "Oh, it's more'n alright."

THE END

**_A/N: That's the end and I hope it's as good as y'all anticipated.  
>So here's the news. . . I'm thinking about not just one, but two sequels. I'm just not sure I can leave these characters where they are. So, I want your opinions of course. I've got more plans for the third story than this next one, but I've got enough to go on. I've just started writing chapter six. So do you want a sequel or two? If so, keep an eye out, because it very well might be on it's way.<br>Here's an exerpt (No title JUST yet, though I have a few ideas, it's saved on my laptop as We Run the Papes 2. Haha)-_**

_"You takin' my sistah out tonight, Davy?" Jack asked as he sauntered in from the washroom. David had assumed that Al had gone straight to him when she walked in the room, but now saw she was sitting next to Race on his bottom bunk involved in a game of cards with Kid Blink and Skittery._

_"Yeah, we're goin' to dinner and then dancing." David grinned even as the boys started laughing and calling him 'twinkle toes'._

_"Aw, shaddup!" Al yelled from where she sat, not taking her eyes off her cards. "It's fun an' Davy's prolly a bettah dancah than any o' you lot."_

_That was probably a lie. They had discovered that they both enjoyed going out dancing a few months ago, but David had just learned to stop stepping all over Al's feet when he did. Much to her own surprise, she had taken to it quite naturally. His favorite part was likely the fact that as long as they danced, she couldn't wipe the smile off of her face._

_"I wouldn't count on that. The ladies tell me I have quite the fancy footwoik," Mush grinned as he pulled his arm away from David and went over to have the boys deal him in._

_"Long as ya have 'er home by ten," Jack winked, earning him an eyeroll from David and likely Al too. "I don't want ya gettin' any ideas."_

_"Don't worry, David'll be a gentleman or he'll have the whole Lodge to reckon with," Race called over his shoulder while simultaneously elbowing Al, who happened to be looking over his shoulder to see his hand. She scowled and rubbed her side with her free hand._


End file.
